The Protege
by ObServantOG
Summary: The son of Christine Daae goes off to study at university and finds himself in the middle of a mystery as someone from his mother's past is looking to pass along his legacy. (note: this mostly ignores "Love Never Dies")
1. Chapter 1

**1.**

The dew had not yet dried off the ground as Gus approached the Sheldonian Theater. He was absorbed into a mass of activity, as he entered the crowd of young men preparing for today's matriculation. He had only arrived from London yesterday, but he walked with grace and carried himself with an air of aristocracy. Several of his fellow students looked at him with a mixture of admiration and envy, while others of lower stature openly fawned over his mother's achievements in London. She had retired from performing a few years ago, but was still an admired figure in the arts, and his father the viscount had combined her acclaim and his own social status into a respectable standing in London. Gus took in all the attention with a practiced ease as he smoothly approached the theater. He was about to reach for the door, when he overheard a whispered hiss.

"Twas the banshee I tell ye!"

He glanced to the side and saw Professor Murphy trying to usher away a clearly vexed groundskeeper. Gus had met Gareth Murphy in London when he had been discussing attending Oxford with his parents. Murphy had explained many of the opportunities that the university afforded, which had apparently helped convince them to let him leave London to continue his studies. Gus was about to offer his assistance when a hand clapped him on the shoulder.

"Come forth Master Gus. The matriculation shall soon be commencing forthwith."

Gus turned a flat expression onto an athletic young man who somehow looked both well-groomed and unkempt at the same time. He had no idea how Alan Davies managed to accomplish the feat, but it existed right before his eyes. He had met Alan on the train from London. He had been returning from a cricket match and was about to begin his second year at Oxford. As the son of a wealthy merchant he attracted some disdainful glares amongst the many students who tried to simply ignore him entirely, but Alan was unperturbed and grinned at his new friend.

"If you're attempting to sound genteel with big words, then you should refer to me by my full name Mr. Davies."

Alan blinked several times before laughing raucously while releasing his grip. He then made a show of straightening his coat and tie before striding imperiously into the theater. Gus shook his head bemusedly before remembering the scene that had caught his attention just moments ago. He turned back to assist Professor Murphy but found that he and the groundskeeper had disappeared. He wondered what the scene had been about, but he didn't have time to search for them, and if they had vanished that quickly, it must not have been a serious problem. Gus joined the throng entering the theater and eagerly waited for the matriculation ceremony to begin.

Several hours later, the students filed out of the theater and began milling around the lawn. The bells of the nearby cathedral tolled the signal for midday, and everyone began to seek out whatever options were available to them.

Gus took out a small loaf of bread he had set aside in the morning and walked east to the nearby grove. There was a stream running through, so he sat on the edge and hummed to himself as he nibbled at the loaf of bread. His father wanted him to take over the family responsibilities and business interests soon, which made him feel constrained. As much as Gus understood the importance of his father's connections and efforts, he had always enjoyed listening to his mother sing. When he had been a boy, she would sometimes sing a duet with him filling his heart with song. But then, one day she stopped singing with him, and only sang in her public performances.

Gus leaned back, remembering those happy times of his youth has he felt himself drifting off to sleep. How long had it been since he'd remembered those times they'd sung together? Three years? Four? Gus sent his mind searching for what they had sung. Operas. Arias. And also a song about someone…

"_The Angel of Music…"_

Yes, that was the one, it was a very pretty melody. How had he forgotten that one, it had always been sung with such beauty and passion? Gus began humming the melody to himself when his mind suddenly jolted back from it's stupor. He felt like he had actually heard that music, not in his mind, but from his ears. After his brain registered this thought he bolted upright startling some ducks in the stream. The water rippled as he looked around frantically, searching for the source of what he'd heard. But he saw no one throughout the shady grove. It was just himself and the birds in the trees and on the water.

Gus tossed the last of his bread into the water at the floating ducks before turning around to walk back towards town. It was still early afternoon, but he felt like he should make sure all his arrangements were settled for the day before night descended. He spotted Professor Murphy as he was approaching the town. Gus waved a greeting, and after Professor Murphy smiled back he walked over.

"Hello Professor."

"Gustave, lad, how are you this afternoon? The trip from London was comfortable I trust?"

"Yes sir. Thank you for your assistance with my parents. I'm not certain they would have agreed to my enrollment without your recommendation. Father especially seems to think I need to focus on my station and office, rather than the arts."

"Not at all. And Oxford has incredible resources for both, truth be told. You would do well to remember that and avail yourself of all the options at your disposal while you are here. After all, stunning talents like your mother, do still need patrons," he said with a wink. "Have you settled into your dormitory yet?"

"Not yet sir. I hadn't had time to submit my paperwork after arrival yesterday, so I just stayed locally. I'm on my way to do that right now though."

"Splendid. Then let me leave you to it. If memory serves, you are in my class at 10 o'clock tomorrow. Do not be late," Professor Murphy gently commanded, as he walked away.

Gus watched him walk a few yards to the north before continuing onward to the administration building. It was a little more than a hundred yards before he found himself amidst a small group of young men trying to get the attention of the disinterested clerk. At seemingly random intervals, the clerk would either take some papers from one person before pointing in one direction or hand over a sheaf of papers while pointing in a different direction, after which he would return to bobbing his head while moving his pen over something on his desk. Gus joined the throng as he began the process of getting his affairs and arrival papers in order.

As expected, the process to settle his registration for the term took many hours and it was well past sunset when he finally walked out of the building to find the dormitory he had been assigned. Midway into the process, the clerk had assured him that his belongings had already been taken care of and would be waiting in his room. Gus was thankful that at least he wouldn't need to drag a large trunk filled with his personal effects through the streets in the middle of the night. He walked along the cobblestone street, beneath the flickering orange glow of the street lamps. In a few more blocks, he would be at his dormitory and would settle into his new home for the coming months.

Gus began wondering what the dormitory looked like and how much space he would have. His friends had teased that his room would be very cramped and spartan in comparison to his family's home in London. As he tried to picture the room, his eyes were drawn to the flickering shadows in the alley to his left. In the darkened alley, he saw what appeared to be a cloaked figure standing over something.

"Excuse me sir, is there a problem?"

A head whipped around, as Gus's inquiry clearly startled them. As the figure turned to face Gus, he began to notice the noose around the neck of the prone figure on the ground. Gus's eyes widened in alarm and he began to shout.

"Help! Murderer! Help!"

Gus continued calling for help, as the assailant brandished something from under their cloak. Gus suddenly froze, realizing all at once that his life may be in peril. He began to raise his hands in a gesture of surrender when suddenly his senses were assaulted by a mixture of light and noise from a sudden explosion. He stumbled back trying to handle the sudden painful sensation from his eyes and ears. He fell over backwards and landed on his backside trying to cover his hands with his arms.

Gus felt tears forming as he continuously blinked trying to force his eyes back into a functional state. He saw blurs approaching from down the road that slowly focused into some of the nearby townspeople. It took a bit longer for the ringing in his ears to subside, but eventually he could hear a shopkeeper asking if he was alright. He nodded cautiously, taking note of several people examining the body in the alley. There was no sign of the assailant, and Gus counted himself lucky that he was not face down next to the other body.

"What happened lad?"

"I… I don't know. I was walking when I just happened to notice something going on over there, "Gus said pointing toward the alley. "Some fellow in a cloak was in there. And when he saw me, there was some kind of explosion."

"We heard that as we were coming over. Saw the flash too."

"They probably heard that boom halfway to London," another man chimed in as he exited the alley. "Grisly bit of work there, seeing a man strangled to death like that. You must've startled him real good."

"Why do you say that?"

"'Cause I don't know why else someone would bother to strangle someone to death and then make enough light and noise to rouse the whole town. If you're going to go to the trouble to kill 'em that way, you generally don't want people to hear you doing it. A gun is much quicker and easier. I'm Inspector Poole, the local constable. And you are?"

"Gustave de Chagny, from London. I arrived yesterday for classes here at Oxford. I had just finished my enrollment papers and was on my way to the dorms."

"Have you eaten yet?"

Gus shook his head, and his stomach gave a low growl. Inspector Poole smirked and told Gus to head over to the nearby pub and put some stew in his belly first. Between the explosion and the murder, he thought the young man might be in shock and taking some time to settle down in a warm setting would do him good. The man who had first inquired as to his well-being offered to accompany Gus to the pub, and he gratefully accepted, since he still felt slightly unsteady.

Gus's new companion introduced himself as Robert. He was a somewhat large man, who had clearly been working hard during the day. He explained that he was a tradesman that had lived in Oxford all his life. Robert grinned as he whispered that before the commotion, he was heading to the pub anyway for a bit of a nightcap. After which he gave Gus a wink and pulled the door open.

The warm air poured out of the entrance and washed over Gus like a wave. He hadn't realized the chill he'd been feeling, until the cozy warmth of the communal room began to wash it away. Robert led Gus into the dining room and asked for a beer and a meat pie for Gus. A stout woman wearing an apron put down two pint glasses, one filled with amber, foamy liquid and the other with water. Agatha Parker was a sturdy woman, with a demeanor that was friendly, while radiating an air that she'd accept no mischief.

"So what's all that noise," Agatha asked.

"No idea," Robert replied as he lifted the beer. "I was just coming to get a drink when the boom sounded."

Agatha snorted derisively.

"Never been a spot of bother in the whole town that you didn't have a finger on Robert Johnson. Don't get this boy wrapped up in no trouble," she said while walking back to the kitchen.

Gus sipped tentatively at the glass of water that had been left for him. He wasn't sure if he wanted to replay the events from before he came to the tavern or if he was better off trying to distract himself with other things, and his head was swimming while he tried to sort it out. He thought that tea would probably be better for calming his mind, but might make getting to sleep later more difficult. So, with an early morning expected, Gus decided to stick with water.

Gus and Robert took their time drinking from their respective glasses as more people began filtering in. Many had at least stopped to inquire about the events in the alley as Gus caught snippets of conversation about the noise and the grisly scene. There was a nervous excitement, since that sort of thing was clearly unusual for a relatively small town like Oxford. The few people who hadn't gone near the commotion were asking whispered questions to some of the new arrivals, several of whom waited until they received their drinks to reply.

A short time later, the proprietress came by with the pie Robert had ordered for Gus and placed it on the table in front of him. Gus thanked her and began to pick at it with his spoon. It was common fare, just some little diced meat mixed with a healthy portion of peas, carrots and corn. The dish was somewhat bland but the warm comfort food began to fill his empty stomach and gave him something else to think about.

"Do you eat here very often?" Gus asked as he scooped up another spoonful of the pie.

"Maybe once a week. I've known Aggie a good while, her food'll fill you up after a long day's work." He paused before whispering, "and if it's bad, at least you can get a beer here too."

Robert snickered at his own joke before gulping down another mouthful of beer. As he clapped his glass down on the table, a girl stumbled out of the back and made her way to the bar. Her head was mostly covered by a kerchief, but dirty hair was barely contained and spilled out the back. Gus glanced over as she began to collect glasses and wipe down a part of the bar that had been vacated.

"Christ, Lucy. Couldn't you stay in the back till close? We were just starting to forget about that mess in the alley."

Gus saw the shadowed face tilt slightly as eyes scanned the common room where townsfolk were drinking their cares away. He saw a spark of fire blaze within those eyes before they briefly went wide as her head swiveled to the door she'd stumbled out of a few moments ago. Her head tilted back down as she scrubbed the bar in earnest. Gus began to rise before a hand dropped down on his arm.

"Leave it be lad. Aggie's a good one, but she doesn't like trouble in her pub. At best, you'll get Lucy punished for causing trouble. At worst, you'll get a knock on the head yourself for being drunk and stupid."

"All I've been drinking is water," Gus replied dryly.

Robert pushed his nearly empty glass in front of Gus.

"Then have a sip. So at least you can say it was that, what made you stupid."

The boorish fellow at the bar resumed his drink, and Gus had to grudgingly agree that there wasn't really anything for him to do aside from cause more problems. The girl hurriedly completed her work and disappeared into the back area.

"She's been dealing with that kinda thing for a long time. Most people feel bad for her, because of what happened to her dad and all, but you got bloody arses everywhere and Oxford ain't no different as far as that goes. Course, at this point I don't think she's chuffed about all the pity either."

"Something happened to her father?"

Robert nodded, "was a long time ago. He did repairs for the railroad. Working on the engines and cars and what not. One day, he was working on an engine. No idea what went wrong, but the thing blew up. Lucy was nearby, to see her dad or playing around the station, or something. Anyway, her pa burned up bad. He got hit with a bunch of debris too, but the fire probably got him anyway. Bad enough that it took her dad like that, but Lucy was too close. Poor kid's face has been a wreck ever since. Her ma went crazy, so Aggie takes care of her."

"It's a shame really. Lucy would probably be married by now or at least engaged. Her mom was pretty comely. But around here, being able to cook and clean is good enough, unless you're some kind of circus freak."

"Is it really that bad?"

"You heard Bill. He's an arse, to be sure, but he wouldn't have said nothing without reason."

Gus pushed the last of his meal around on his plate. The story sounded terrible, but he didn't really have anything to do with the situation. As it stood, he was only there because he'd convinced his father to let him study at the university. He had no real power or resources to help the girl. And even if he did, what could he do, she was a kitchen maid in a small town. London was filled with sad stories from the destitute and derillect.

After distractedly pushing the last of his meat pie around for a minute, Gus finally put down his spoon. He exhaled softly before thanking Robert for the meal and the company. Robert waved affably as he leaned back in his chair. Gus then rose and excused himself for the evening before walking out of the pub into the chill night air. The moon was slightly more than half full and sparse clouds dimmed the pale glow a bit more. But the street lamps still flickered, and Gus walked cautiously to the dorm.

The building was not far, a scant few blocks, and luckily it was still early enough for the dorm proctor to be awake and on duty. He welcomed Gus to the building and gave him a key to room 5 on the second floor. Gus made his way up the stairs and after unlocking the room entered what would be his new residence for the next year.

His trunk was sitting in the middle of the floor and two other bags rested nearby leaning against one another. Beyond his belongings, there was a small cot to one side and a sink on the far end of the room. To his immediate left, there was a closet and a desk beside that with a chair before it and a shelf right above. The window allowed in the pale glow of moonlight, giving the room a ghostly hue. There was a candle on the desk, which Gus lit and opened his trunk.

He quickly retrieved his pajamas and a small towel. After stripping to his underwear, Gus scrubbed at his face and tried to clean up some of the grime his early experience in the alley had bestowed upon him. As he lowered the now soiled towel to the sink, Gus felt very tired. He took a quick glance at the still mostly packed trunk and bags before blowing out the candle and climbing into bed. He smiled ruefully as he climbed into the bed. "Had I really worried that a spot of tea would keep me awake?" Gus wondered as he closed his eyes and quickly fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**2.**

Gus cracked his eyes blearily to the sound of someone pounding on his door. There were hints of hazy sunlight coming through his window, but it was clearly still early in the morning. A second round of banging had Gus mumble out a request for patience as he pulled himself out of bed. Still in his undergarments, Gus shuffled to the door and heard one final thump as he turned the doorknob.

Gus blinked at the same mix of dapper and disheveled from yesterday, as Alan stood grinning in the doorway. When Gus was fully composed, the combination was perplexing, but in his current state, it was simply irritating. Although Gus also made a mental concession that it may just be the fact that Alan was clearly a morning person. Before he could ask what he had done to earn a personal wakeup call, Alan pushed himself into the room and looked out the window.

"Quite a morning, isn't it?"

_Dreary,_ was the only word Gus could think of to describe the gray, foggy scene outside of the window. It was pretty typical for the area, certainly nothing worth remarking about, especially not in a positive way. Not unless you really liked clouds or fog. Gus wondered if the fellow standing before him in a sweater and trousers was perpetually cheery, or just a little daft, possibly even both. Gus closed the door and yawned as he walked over to the sink. He was about to turn on the tap when he suddenly froze for a moment.

"There's a rumor going around that someone got killed in town last night," Alan said, still staring out the window. "Do you think that's what that thunder was last night?"

Gus wasn't sure what to say. It wasn't that he particularly wanted to keep it a secret, but he didn't exactly want to relive the events as last night either. He shrugged noncommittally, before turning on the water and dampening a cloth, which he used to wipe his face.

"What were you doing last night Gus?"

"Whah?"

"All your stuff is still packed in the middle of the floor and you clearly didn't put a lot of effort into your clothes! Were you spacing out all night? Or reading or something?"

Gus relaxed slightly as he remembered that he'd been busy all day and then he'd gone to bed without doing more than removing yesterday's clothing. To others in the dorm, his room probably looked practically unused at all. He really needed to rectify that today.

"I had to fill out reams of paperwork all day yesterday. By the time I got back, I was so tired I just crawled into bed and went to sleep."

"That sounds bloody awful. My dad has guys that do that all day back in London. Morning to night, just sitting at a desk and writing away at papers."

Alan ostentatiously shivered at the very prospect. Gus found himself wondering how the lad had ever survived his first year at Oxford without flunking out or going bonkers. Gus set down the damp cloth he'd been using and opened his trunk. He quickly pulled out his clothing for the day and a few other necessities.

"I hadn't expected to be entertaining this morning," he remarked wryly. "I'll put in every effort to see that my parlor is more inviting later today."

Alan made a show of surveying the small room before nodding as he said, "see that you do, my good man."

"I'm going to go get some breakfast. Clearly you're not ready for that yet, but make sure you're not late for French class this morning. Mr. Firmin is pretty strict."

"How do you know what my first class is?"

"We talked about it on the train. Good lord man, I was thinking you'd help me get through the second year, but if you can't remember that, then I'm worried I'll be teaching you. And neither of us want that to be true, believe me."

With a nod, he then walked back to the door and turned the knob. As he pulled the door open, Alan gave the room a final look before walking into the hall and closing the door behind him. Gus sat embarrassed remembering the long train ride from London where he and Alan had discussed various things about the coming term, including the schedules and the one overlapping class. Gus had first found it odd that a first year and a second year were sharing a course, before realizing that because of his family, Gus had a solid grasp of French, and for the same reason, Alan probably did not. Gus decided to blame the oversight on his current half-risen state, so he scooped up his towel and toiletries and set off for the washroom.

The communal washroom was at the end of the hall, just a short walk from his room. It was active, but not excessively crowded at this point in the morning, so everyone was polite about sharing the needed facilities. Everyone worked through their activities with practiced efficiency and Gus quickly returned to his room to shave and dress for the day. Gus pulled on navy trousers to go with his navy blazer over his white shirt and matching tie. Feeling much more alert and prepared, Gus picked up the bag containing his books and stationary and set off for the dining hall.

After a short walk, he found Alan happily munching away at some toast. Gus sat down next to him and poured himself some tea to go along with his much more modest portions.

"So Alan, Comment est ton Français?" Gus inquired.

Alan stuffed the remainder of his toast into his mouth before pantomiming that it was rude to speak while eating. Gus snickered as he put some jam on his own toast. As he spread the jam across his bread he caught a few whispers from around the room. Here and there people were speaking in hushed voices about last night's events. When he raised his head a couple of people were making furtive glances in his direction.

Gus sighed as he raised the toast to his mouth and nibbled at it pensively. He was pretty certain the rumors would start catching up to him very soon, but hopefully he could at least get through his first day.

"Thanks for coming to wake me up," he offered. "You probably noticed, but I'm not a morning person."

Alan grinned as he said, "you should run around the campus with me in the morning, it really gets your body awake."

"Ugh, no thanks, besides, I certainly couldn't keep up with you."

Alan laughed, and a few minutes later they had finished their breakfast and set their dishes aside before setting out for their morning class. It was still cool and a bit hazy, but the sun was starting to burn off the morning fog as they walked the several hundred yards to the building where they would be studying French this morning. A short time later, they approached the ivy-covered building and ascended the short staircase to the main entrance.

The two young men entered the building together and walked casually to the third door on the right. There were still several minutes until the scheduled start time, so they had no reason to rush. They entered the room and were greeted by the dull buzz of scattered conversations between the other students. Gus and Alan each found an empty seat and settled into place for the start of class.

Gus took a minute to retrieve his book and writing utensils from his bag before resting his arms on the desk in front of him. He looked back to see Alan laughing with another student two rows behind him. Gus brought his hand up to conceal a yawn just as the door to the room swung open. An officious looking bald man entered a moment later and walked behind the large desk at the front of the room. He made an extravagant show of putting down his satchel and pulling out a leather bound folder. He held the folder before himself for a moment before speaking to the class.

"Bonjour. Je m'appelle Monsieur Firmin, je suis ton instructeur."

He nodded perfunctorily and then opened the folder.

"Monsieur Andrews."

"Oui!"

"Monsieur Billington."

"Oui!"

"Monsieur Casserly."

"Oui!"

Mr. Firmin, paused momentarily as he stared at his folder. His head came up to look around the classroom looking over all the occupants. He raised an eyebrow while looking in Gus's direction.

"Mister De Chagny."

"Oui," Gus replied hesitantly.

"Son of Viscount Raoul De Chagny?" Mr. Firmin asked, all traces of his French accent suddenly absent.

"...Oui. Do you know my father?"

"And how is your mother, Miss Daae? Or I guess now she would be the Madame De Chagny, she is well I take it?"

Mr. Firmin's voice was guttural, almost turning Germanic as he put forth the question. Gus was confused, but he nervously responded.

"Yes, she is also fine sir. Thank you for asking."

Mr. Firmin locked eyes with Gus for another second before abruptly pivoting to his right. He looked down at his folder and went back to taking roll.

"Monsieur Ellington."

Gus released a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding as he leaned heavily on his desk. He racked his brain trying to recall if Mr. Firmin had ever come to their home in London or if he had seen or heard of him at some other time, but he could find none. Mr. Firmin clearly knew his parents, but Gus could not remember ever hearing them mention him. But then he remembered that Mr. Firmin had called his mother by her maiden name, so he must not have seen them since before Gus was born.

The class period flew by with scant attention given to Gus. As Mr. Firmin gave the class their assignment for the evening before perfunctorily walking out the door, Gus began to wonder if he'd imagined the strange level of attention he had given him. He was absently putting away his book when two classmates paused by his desk.

"Good luck to you this term De Chagny," said one while giving him a sympathetic look.

"I'm just glad it's not me," added the other. "Firmin took an interest in Peter last term. Poor kid almost dropped out after two weeks. We'll pray for your safety."

Gus watched them continue towards the front of the room. He was relieved to find that he hadn't imagined the unusual degree of scrutiny, but he now worried for a different reason. He began to feel a lump of anxiety in his stomach as he worried whether he would have such strange conversations for the entirety of the term. Luckily for Gus, his reverie was broken by a familiar hand clapping onto his back.

"You know ole Firmin?" his friend inquired.

"I've never met the man in my life before today. I didn't know my parents had either. Is he always like that?"

"No, that was pretty weird. Last year I don't remember if he spoke any English at all, and that was my first French class."

Even more confused than before, Gus got up and walked out of the room with Alan while stuffing his notes into his bag. Alan's next class was in the opposite direction from where Gus was headed, so they gave each other a brief wave and parted. Gus then spent the next two hours trying to keep up with the morning's lessons. It wasn't that he found the material particularly difficult, but he kept getting distracted by the strange exchange with Mr. Firmin. By the end of the Mathematics lesson, he was glad to have a break before any more classes so he could compose himself.

Gus had never thought himself a loner or particularly anti-social, but the events of the last 24 hours had made him appreciate time to himself. While walking to get his lunch, he noticed more than one person turn away when he noticed them casting surreptitious glances in his direction. There was even one fellow who apparently took a few moments to remember he'd been pointing at Gus, so he awkwardly lowered the hand aimed in his direction a few seconds after turning his head away.

Gus sighed inwardly. He would probably need to clear things up tonight, with Alan at least. It simply wouldn't do for the man to think he was deliberately misleading him. At least with the previous night's events, Gus knew why he was the object of some discussion, as opposed to Mr. Firmin's unidentified interest in Gus or his family. He acquired a sandwich and absently nibbled at it as he wandered aimlessly around town for several minutes. He really needed to sort some of this out before afternoon classes or the whole day would be wasted and he'd likely find himself trying to catch up for the entirety of the term.

Before he knew it, Gus found himself again wandering toward the stream on the east end of town. He was still trying to figure out how to handle all the unrequested attention he was receiving, when everything was suddenly washed away by a distant sound. A song on the wind had caught his ear. It reminded him faintly of listening to his mother. The voice was cruder and not as powerful, but the song was clean and well sung for some remote town outside of London.

Gus was carried along by the beautiful melody, which slowly got louder as he moved closer to the stream. He very quickly saw the source. There was a slight girl in a simple, partly soiled dress. She had a kerchief covering her dirty brown hair, and Gus realized it was the same girl who worked in the tavern. He continued forward in a daze, forgetting his earlier troubles and what had guided him to this spot. He was simply enthralled by the voice that was enriching the entire vicinity.

As Gus got closer, he absently stepped on a fallen branch, snapping it in two. The sound was not particularly loud, but it brought the singing that had enchanted him to an immediate halt. Lucy spun around and Gus unconsciously retreated slightly from the scarred face that was now facing him. The fire that Gus had just barely noticed the previous night was now focused entirely on him. Their eyes remained locked for a heartbeat before Lucy suddenly pivoted again and ran.

Gus stood dumbfounded for several seconds. He wasn't quite sure what had just happened nor what he should do. But something told him there had been a misunderstanding and he thought that he truly needed to clear this one up. After establishing his resolution, Gus set out to catch the girl. She had a good head start, but he thought he could catch her before too long. He had some concern that she might lose him in the trees on the other side of the stream, since she was running toward the bridge. But right before the bridge she turned off the road and darted underneath the structure.

Gus slowed down, not entirely sure what she was doing. He also felt that if he approached more slowly, he could better react if she ran out the other side. However, as he walked up to the bridge, no one emerged and he wondered if she was trying to hide under the bridge. It wasn't particularly large, and she had to know he'd seen her run there, so it wasn't a very good hiding spot. He paused above the bridge, thinking it was probably best to speak first, since he'd already startled her before.

"I beg your pardon. I didn't mean to startle you. Nor to eavesdrop," he hastily added. "I was just nearby when I heard your singing. It was quite beautiful, you're very talented."

There was no response.

"Please, may I just have a moment of your time to speak with you?"

Gus slowly began to descend the slope towards the river. As he got closer he craned his head down to speak to… no one. The space beneath the bridge was entirely empty.


	3. Chapter 3

**3.**

Lucy moved further into the dark cavern. There was no light pouring in from the hidden door that she'd closed a few minutes ago, so she was pretty certain that she'd lost her pursuer. She wished she'd been able to punch his scornful face which had stared at her with such revulsion, but she knew that in the open daylight it was better to make a certain getaway rather than risk more pain for temporary satisfaction. It was a lesson she'd been forced to endure several times while growing up.

For a brief time after her father had died, parents had pitied her and insured that their children treated her politely. A short time later, most children were instead told to simply leave her alone. But after Lucy's mother disappeared, most of the adults couldn't be bothered to say anything about how kids treated one another, especially not when they were bullying a child with no parents to complain. By the time a year had passed, Lucy had stopped going to school and avoided all the other children.

In retrospect, that year of agony had been a blessing. Without it, Lucy would likely have never met the Maestro, and her life would be much more bland. Lucy still missed her father terribly, even these many years later, but she was happy for the things the Maestro had brought into her life, especially the music.

Lucy began humming very softly as she made her way deeper into the cavern. After a few yards, the passageway turned and she moved out of the rough hewn cavern and into a more cleanly constructed hallway. The lighting was very dim, but her eyes had adjusted to the low lighting, and besides she was well familiar with this hallway. Lucy passed several doors as she walked slowly, but with confidence to the ornate wooden door at the far end of the hallway. Most of the doors she passed were simple, plain wooden doors, like you would find in any house, but the door at the end of the hallway was different. Even in the dim lighting, it shone from the smooth black lacquer. It was tough to see right now, but Lucy knew there was an angel, approximately 3 inches tall, inscribed in delicate red paint in the upper center of the door. The door handle was an intricate device made of brass with various carvings along its surface.

When she was a young girl, Lucy would often spend hours outside this door, etching all these details deeply into her brain. She had often sat on the floor waiting for this door to open granting her access to the room inside. But today she slowly turned the door handle as quietly as possible, and pushed the door open. The well maintained hinges made no sound as the door moved. Once a week, Lucy did her best to ensure that the occupant would not be disturbed by her entrance.

She quietly stepped into the room, and was met by an entirely expected sight. The Maestro was sitting at his desk, pen in hand, writing furiously on the paper laid out in front of him. Besides eating and sleeping, he seemed to only do three things and this was by far the most common as far as Lucy had ever seen. Sometimes he was filling pages with musical compositions. Other times it was elaborate designs for whatever he had dreamt up that day. Once, she had caught a peek of a sheet of paper covered in bizarre symbols that she was completely unable to understand at all. As usual, the pen and paper demanded his attention and Lucy had no doubt that he'd barely registered her entrance.

Physically speaking, the Maestro was quite ghoulish. His noseless face with several scars, accented by sunken eyes and tinted with a sickly yellowish complexion made him look inhuman. The scattered tufts of graying hair only added to the macabre effect. But beyond that, Lucy knew that he was brilliant. And further still, although he was stern, she knew that he was far kinder than the monsters who walked through the town each day. To her, he was a noble hero who had rescued her from relentless torment many years ago near the same bridge she'd just escaped under.

"Have you eaten today?" she asked softly from a few paces behind.

The only response was an irritable grunt, as the man continued scribbling at his notes. Lucy knew that this meant "no", so she surveyed the rest of the room quickly before turning back to the lacquered door. The bed was properly arranged, with various pillows and cushions along the headboard. A wooden dresser stood nearby with a mask on top of it. It had been a regular affectation when they met, but was rarely bothered with anymore. In the corner were several musical instruments; a piano, with a violin atop it, a flute case sat on the bench before the piano, and on the floor was an old trumpet she'd never actually seen him use. The rest of the room was filled with bookcases, one of which had actual books; but the rest were covered with all manner of gears and gadgets in various states of completion. Satisfied with the current state of things, Lucy quietly opened the door again, and returned to the hallway.

Walking a little more briskly now, Lucy sauntered over to the door that led to the kitchen. She went inside and stepped over to the pantry to pull out some bread. After cutting off a few slices, she added some cheese and a few slices of sausage that was resting on the counter. She then filled a kettle from the nearby tap and put it on the nearby stove. After adding a log to the interior she lit some kindling to get it burning. It would take a while for the heat to rise enough to boil the water in the kettle, so Lucy walked back to the tray she'd prepared and took it back to the Maestro's room.

It had not been long, so of course he was still in the same place doing the same thing as when she'd left. Lucy put the tray down on his desk and picked up a slice of bread for herself before moving over to a nearby stool where she quietly nibbled at her bread as he continued working. She smiled as he began absently taking bites of bread and cheese while still staring intently at the pages on his desk. He continued to work and eat while she sat nearby, but Lucy didn't mind. This was routine to her by now and she happily waited for him to either decide to take a break from this particular project or get fed up with the choices he'd made at some point. From her experience, either outcome was equally possible.

Lucy was startled when the Maestro suddenly slapped down his pen and curtly said, "Tea!" She was embarrassed to realize the kettle was probably whistling back in the kitchen where she had let it sit for too long. He had better hearing than her, so he had clearly noticed the disruption.

Lucy ran back to the kitchen and removed the kettle. She then poured the hot water into a plain tea pot before adding in the tea leaves. She set the kettle aside while giving the tea a few minutes to steep. The flavour of the tea leaves seeped into the water as Lucy put two saucers on a nearby tray before taking two teacups from the cabinet and placing them on the saucers. The smell of the tea began to drift into the air, so she strained out the leaves to keep the taste from turning too strong. She then poured tea into the cups on the tray and set the kettle back onto the counter.

Tray in hand, Lucy made her way back to the Maestro's room. He had set down his pen and was glaring at her as she returned.

Lucy sheepishly put the tray on his desk and stood, wringing her hands slightly. She had forgotten the third possible option: the Maestro's work could be interrupted, which usually left him in an agitated state. She tried to avoid this if possible, because although brilliant, he was a very temperamental man and agitation could bring many different things, but a scolding was always included.

"You left the kettle boiling too long, you know I don't like to be distrubed while I'm working."

"Yes Maestro," she replied timidly.

"But worse, you deliberately disobeyed me last night."

Lucy flinched at this. She had really hoped he hadn't noticed, but worried that the commotion made that unlikely. Apparently her fears had been correct. She flushed with embarrassment as her head lowered even more.

"You told me you were going to work, not to gallivant through the streets!"

"I did go to work Maestro." It wasn't exactly a lie. She received a different scolding the previous night when she'd arrived late for her shift.

"Tonight, you will stay here. No arguing," he roared the final imperative, cutting her off before she could object. He then dropped into his chair, as if giving that directive had taken a lot of energy, and waved his had at the gramophone in the corner. Lucy stood dumbfounded for a few moments before a slight glare prompted her to set the gramophone playing. She quickly realized the current recording was music only and she was meant to supply the vocals. After listening to the opening beats, she began singing along in tune with the music.

Lucy could not remember having a particular affinity or fondness for music as a child, but ever since meeting the Maestro, she had come to love it from the deepest depths of her soul. She could certainly listen to him play for hours. And on rare occasions when he would sing, time itself seemed to lose all meaning and she felt that he could sing for days and it would still not be enough.

She winced as the Maestro slammed a hand to the desk. After years of instruction, she knew that he was not angry, but he was nonetheless a stern teacher and would always point out areas of her performance needing correction. Lucy hurriedly restarted the music and began anew, while trying to improve the mistakes in her voice. _This part offkey_, _that part is a beat too slow, voice too tentative_, and on and on. Most of these she had heard before. The piece was within her range, the Maestro was absolutely certain of that fact. But still, he demanded utter perfection, which Lucy often felt was beyond her capability. Even so, she enjoyed singing and was happy for the instruction, so she did her best and accepted every bit of criticism without complaint.

"Enough," he finally said. "Take care of this and then go to your room," he said while waving at the dishes from before.

Lucy collected the empty cups and placed them back on the now empty tray before taking them all to the kitchen. She quickly rinsed the various items before setting them aside on the counter to dry. She also rinsed the teapot, which had earlier been left in the kitchen and had now cooled. She dried her hands and poked her head into the hallway. After confirming that the lacquered door was closed once again, she made her way to another door in the dimly lit hallway.

The door was sturdy and simple. It was unadorned and the doorknob was plain and unremarkable. In short, nothing about the door to Lucy's room stood out or drew attention to itself, from the outside it could easily be mistaken for the nearby closet. But once she opened the door and stepped inside, Lucy was embraced by the always comforting atmosphere of the space she called her own.

The small room was square with each wall measuring about 8 feet. Her bed filled more than a third of the room and was covered with a colorful, patchwork quilt that was one of her few keepsakes from her life before the accident that had taken her parents. Her small desk was covered with random collections of papers and small doodads, much like her mentor. Along the wall opposite the bed, she had two shelves which held up a small set of books held upright by mismatched boxes. In the corner opposite the bed was a small wardrobe, which was held open by the towel and nightgown draping over the door. But the feature that Lucy always found both delightful and fascinating was the small hole in the center of the ceiling. From this aperture, the warm glow of the late afternoon sun filled Lucy's room.

Although the Maestro had explained the "sky light" (as he called it) in the past, Lucy only had a vague understanding of how it worked to bring outside light into her room. But nonetheless, she appreciated the break from the light of flickering flames. Unfortunately, she could tell that the sun was well past its peak and the light would be growing dimmer as evening approached.

Lucy kicked off her shoes as she walked across the worn rug in the middle of the room and threw herself face down onto the bed. She wasn't entirely sure what she had expected the Maestro's reaction to be, but being grounded was frustrating. She knew there had actually been several incidents lately. The majority of the townsfolk were unaware since the previous incidents hadn't included an explosion in the middle of town. But working in the pub late at night, she'd heard whispers and muttered rumors for several weeks. It was disappointing that her first attempt to investigate the rumors had failed so spectacularly.

Lucy kicked her legs weakly as she went over the prior night's events in her mind. She had heard about the Oxford groundskeeper being sequestered away the previous morning after a fit of hysterics about ghosts or some such nonsense. The explosion had caused a much larger commotion that she had intended, but at least it had made it much easier to get away. She had been shocked to run into the man from the alley, not once but twice now. With that in mind, it was probably for the best that she was not going to town for the rest of the day.

She turned her head to peek at the door as she heard the knob turning. Through the narrow opening, the Maestro spoke.

"I will be going out for a time. I will let Mistress Parker know that you will be indisposed this evening, so you have no reason to be gallivanting outside tonight?"

It was asked as a question, but his tone made clear that his statement was not intended as such.

"Yes Maestro," Lucy replied.

The door slid shut and she heard his footsteps retreat down the hallway. Lucy rolled over and stared at the ceiling. She wondered where the Maestro was going this evening, but didn't dare try to find out.

As the light shining into her was slowly dimming into a shade heralding dusk, a mischievous thought entered her mind. She let her mouth break into a tiny wicked grin as she pulled herself up off the bed and slowly walked over to the door. She carefully turned the knob and very cautiously craned her neck to check the space outside.

As she had expected, the hallway was barren. She looked back and forth for a full minute letting her ears strain to try to make out any sound, be it walking or clattering or even breathing. But aside from the tiny, barely audible crackle of flame, there was nothing.

Lucy allowed herself a tiny sigh as she slowly eased out of her room into the hallway. She slowly crept along the wall deeper into the hallway. As she passed the first doorway, she swallowed nervously, although she was moving away from the exit, now that she had passed the bathroom she had lost the easiest explanation for where she was going. She was pretty certain that he had left, but there had been times when he had tricked her into thinking he was away, only to pop up suddenly to catch her sneaking somewhere she was forbidden from going.

This time she had not technically been forbidden from leaving her room, she had only been bade not to leave the underground labyrinth that they lived in. The Maestro certainly would not have restricted her from going to the bathroom, and even the kitchen was most likely fine, Lucy told herself as she began to inch past the chamber she had just recently tidied up. But that last door at the end of the hall was different. He hadn't explicitly forbade her from going in there this evening, but she was pretty sure he would not approve if he knew.

The black lacquered door reflected rays of the dim lighting, and the red angel almost seemed to burn as she crept closer to the door. Lucy paused a few short steps before the door and held her breath listening again for any movement or other sounds in the dim hallway. After a few seconds she closed her eyes and strained for any sounds of another person within the underground dwelling. After what seemed like an hour (but was actually less than a minute), she felt satisfied that the Maestro had truly left and quickly reached for the ornate doorknob. As before, the knob turned smoothly and the door swung open without complaint on the well oiled hinges, but to Lucy the barely audible whisper of the air pushed by the door sounded like a hurricane. She took one last furtive glance behind herself before carefully walking into the room.

Lucy walked over to one of the Maestro's bookcases. Most of the shelves were filled with journals and notebooks, into which he had poured his thoughts and studies. In short order, Lucy found the worn, leather-bound tome she sought and gently pulled it from the shelf. Most of the books looked similar, and the organizational system might be incomprehensible to most people. But Lucy was not "most people" and had a lot of experience sorting through the Maestro's belongings, including his many, many books and records. He was an exacting man, and thus handled most of the organizing and placement himself. But he could be turbulent and on occasion allowed help when the amount of work required would take too much of his time. She cracked the book to confirm that she had acquired the right one. She hugged it tight and hurriedly retreated from the Maestro's room.

Her heart pounded in her chest as Lucy returned to her own room and leaned her back against the door. Her legs barely held her up as she panted heavily, more from nervousness over what she'd done rather than from physical exertion. She tried to decide whether she was experiencing exhausted relief or exhilaration over the completion of her brief several minute escapade. She settled on satisfaction as she carried her trophy over to the small desk.

She opened the book and flipped slowly before stopping on a diagram on a page about a quarter of the way. She scanned the image and began reading over some of the notes scrawled into the adjoining page.

After a few minutes of reading, Lucy's eyes took on an excited gleam and she hurriedly dug out a few tools and assorted items from nearby drawers. She laid out the various items in a haphazard manner that was in line with when she found them. When she finally nodded that she had everything she needed, Lucy finally went over to her cloak hanging from a hook on the wall by the door. There were a few pockets in the inner lining and she dug into one of them to retrieve a brass tube smaller around than her fist and about as tall as her hands stacked on top of one another. The tube was covered in black soot and had numerous parts that she knew were missing from when it was originally given to her.

Considering the scolding Lucy had received earlier, she was pretty certain that it would be a while before the Maestro would fix the device. He enjoyed tinkering with things and Lucy suspected he also liked to show off his ingenuity and brilliance, but he was likely to tell her that she had no need of it for the foreseeable future, if she had asked him. But with the schematic, Lucy was certain she could repair it herself. It would probably take her longer than he would need, but right now, she had plenty of time.

Lucy sat down at her desk and laid the brass tube down in the center before picking up a small screwdriver and testing a section noted in the diagram. Lucy had been learning from the Maestro for many years, she giggled slightly as she thought to herself that she'd even learned many things he hadn't known that he'd taught her. She looked forward to the day when she could proudly show him everything she learned.


	4. Chapter 4

**4.**

Gus stared absently at Professor Murphy as he droned on about today's lesson in philosophy. He reflected upon the events of the past week as he tapped his pencil softly on his desk. He had spent so long staring at every angle of that bridge that he'd nearly been late to his afternoon classes. After classes, he'd been summoned by Inspector Poole to give his statements about the events in the alley.

The inspector had clearly been frustrated by his capabilities as a witness, since Gus had barely seen anything before the explosion. The inspector had stared suspiciously at Gus all throughout the interrogation process. Thankfully, Gus had had the benefit of the meticulousness of English bureaucrats, whose thorough records proved Gus's whereabouts prior to entering the alley that night. The university clerk had even looked deeply offended when Inspector Poole had barely suggested that his records might be the least bit inaccurate. In the end, the Inspector Poole had to concede that it was highly unlikely that the murderer would then incapacitate himself in the alley. But since the most that Gus could provide in the way of information was "a cloaked man", the inspector had clearly been irritated when dismissing him.

After that, Gus had tracked down Alan to drag him to the pub. That had allowed Gus to tell his classmate about the events of the prior night while also providing an excuse to check in on the mysterious barmaid. Unfortunately, his secondary efforts proved fruitless, since the girl was absent. He had tried casually asking Alan about Lucy, but if anything, Alan was even more clueless about the girl than Gus himself was, if that was possible. Despite having spent a year more than Gus in the town of Oxford, Alan had never taken notice of the deformed village girl working in the local pub. After a few beers, Alan had been much more interested in telling Gus about the attractive and buxom girl that lived near the church down the street.

Over the following days, Gus had returned to the pub several times and learned a few tidbits about Lucy, but she had not returned since that first night. Mistress Parker had been unconcerned and airily remarked that it happened from time to time. Sometimes Lucy would disappear for days at a time, but she had always come back eventually.

While he had found it somewhat frustrating at the time, this morning Gus had realized that in a way he appreciated the difficulties in tracking her down. In Professor Firmin's French class this morning, Gus realized that the furtive glances and whispered gossip had subsided. It would be a lie to say he hadn't noticed the continued attention during this time, but he had paid it little mind due to his determination to find out more about the singing barmaid.

Unfortunately, Professor Firmin himself continued to have a strange preoccupation with Gus. Had it not been for that first day, he would have assumed the instructor appreciated his proficiency with the language. But that first day made it impossible for him to ignore that aside from sharp disdain, none of Professor Firmin's facial expressions ever reached his eyes while looking at Gus. No matter what he was saying or doing, when his gaze fell on Gus, there was always that icy glare.

Luckily, Professor Murphy's class usually allowed Gus to resettle himself for the day. Gareth Murphy was friendly and engaging. He maintained an orderly classroom, but also kept a good atmosphere among his students. Even earlier in the week, before they had moved on to other distractions, Gus had not been subjected to any whispers or furtive glances in this particular class. For that, he was exceedingly thankful.

But in spite of his affection for Professor Murphy's class, Gus found his mind wandering today. And it continued in the following Mathematics course. He was simply unable to focus on his instructors, aside from Professor Firmin who he fervently wished he could ignore. As his last morning class was ending, Gus was about to go check the bridge that continued to occupy his thoughts when a familiar hand slapped down on his desk.

"Il est le hor du ... lunch."

Gus's reverie was shattered by the truly awful display of what his friend Alan called French. It was only a week ago that he wondered how someone with a full year under his belt was sharing a class with him. Now, although the question was the same, he found himself instead wondering how someone with a full year of prior teaching was still this terrible.

"Tu es bête," Gus replied while turning to his friend.

"I am not stupid," Alan snarled.

"Lucky guess."

Alan's angry expression quickly melted into a grin and he began laughing as Gus rose from his seat and shouldered his bag.

"So what shall we eat? I agreed to try to improve your clearly abysmal French, but I have no intent to play housewife and cook for you besides."

"Come on, don't be like that. Just the other day I saw the prettiest apron. It had some lace accents that would make you the envy of all the girls in town. Why your elusive tavern maid might even come looking for you, for tips on how to win the heart of a man as sought after as myself."

"You are quite the catch."

"It's true. Looks, money, intelligence, I truly do have too many desirable features."

"I can only imagine how disappointed all the village girls are whenever they find out they can never take you away from your true love, yourself."

They both laughed as they walked to a nearby cafe that Alan pointed out. They settled down at a small wooden table and ordered some tea and sandwiches. A small teapot and two porcelain cups were delivered to their table. Alan poured himself a full cup of the warm liquid and added some sugar while gently stirring the liquid. Gus gave his head a small shake. He wasn't really surprised that his friend didn't have the patience to let the tea steep properly, but he couldn't help but show his disapproval. Alan ignored the small wave of disdain and leaned back holding his cup. He took a small sip before glancing over his cup at his lunch companion.

"So, speaking of women…" Alan began.

"Were we?"

"Seeing as we're between classes at the moment, it's either that or money. Or you can eat alone," Alan replied with a smirk.

Gus shrugged helplessly. He really did think that Alan could probably do with more work on his French before he returned to Firmin's classroom, but he wasn't really in the mood to tutor right now anyway.

"So get this," Alan continued. "I heard from some of the lads that your bridge is kind of haunted. Apparently there's this local legend about a banshee that shows up at that bridge some nights glowing and wailing. I guess a long time ago they found some guy dead on the bank of the water and since then, there's been stories of a siren leading people to their deaths in the water like in the Odyssey or something."

Gus gave him a skeptical look as he reached for the teapot.

"I'm not saying I believe that nonsense," Alan added hurriedly. "But it is an interesting story don't you think? A ghostly woman singing by the water and then disappearing. Maybe your missing barmaid is… a ghoooooooost."

Gus returned a flat look as he removed the tea basket from the pot. He poured himself a cup and nodded with satisfaction at the thicker brown color of the translucent liquid filling his cup.

"Do you know how long that legend has been around?"

Alan shrugged. "I don't remember hearing about anyone getting fished out of that stream last year, so I figure it must be more than a year at least."

"Did you hear anything about it last year?"

"No, but I don't usually go looking for fairy tales about strange women inhabiting the local bridge, nor do I have your family's ear for music."

"I'm certain my father will be glad to hear I've become acquainted with someone so pragmatic and adept at more practical matters. Sometimes I think he has a love-hate relationship with my mother's gift," Gus remarked pensively. "I've heard some rumors about her debut in Paris, but neither of them talk about it much. That also seemed to involve a ghost story come to think of it. A homicidal spectre, haunting the Palais Garnier." Gus trailed off, wondering if Professor Firmin might have been around the Opera House at that time. It seemed like a stretch for a French instructor to not only have been there, but also know the Viscount de Chagny. But it might help explain how he knew Gus's parents.

Gus was tapping the saucer for his teacup idly, lost in thought, when Alan quite literally snapped him out of his reverie. Gus blinked at the hand stretched out in front of his face. In an instant, the hand spun around and a finger flicked his forehead. He was momentarily stunned by the impertinent action, but Alan calmly drew his hand back to rest by his teacup as if he hadn't just broken decorum. Gus glared at the fellow across the table, consciously willing himself to not rub at the stinging spot on his forehead.

"So how would you like to help me find a ghost?" Gus asked while forcing a smile to his face.

Alan grinned mischievously as sandwiches were placed on the table. Both of the young men ate their lunch and talked about other things going on within their classes. A short time later they completed their meal and agreed to meet up again in a few hours before heading their separate ways for their afternoon schedules.

For the next several hours, Gus made his best effort to pay attention to his instructors and not let himself get distracted by the plans he had made for that evening. Luckily, the lessons were none too strenuous that day, so they passed uneventfully and he soon found himself waving to some classmates as he walked back towards his dorm.

Alan's cricket practice would keep him busy for a while yet, so Gus had time to put away his books and sort himself out before wandering around at dusk. He laid down on the bed and stared at his ceiling. He let his mind wander back to Professor Firmin. Maybe the man had once worked at the old opera house before it had caught fire. From what he knew, his parents had been there, but the man had to be mad if he was blaming them for that. His mother had only been a performer, and his father had just been a patron, not the theater manager. The man should have demanded satisfaction from whoever had been running the place rather than holding a grudge against two people who happened to be in the same place during a terrible incident.

Gus suddenly had an idea for a better way to spend his time. He left the dorms and after a short walk found himself at the university library. He made a few polite inquiries and soon made his way to a section where newspapers were neatly stacked in large piles. He was glad to see that the items were well organized and it didn't take long to narrow his search to a few stacks. He didn't know the exact date, but considering what he knew of his family's relocation and his parents wedding, he felt there was a certain range that should reliably give him an idea of where to look. The librarian asked Gus to limit himself to 5 items at a time, so he picked up a month's worth of Sunday editions of 20 years ago and started carefully scanning through them.

Over an hour passed as Gus continued the laborious process of claiming a stack of papers, taking them to a table, reading through them, exchanging them for another stack and then repeating the process. Gus was thankful that he had at least identified sections of the paper that could be totally ignored. That had sped his process considerably after the first few copies, but there were still a lot of items to search through, especially since he wasn't even certain of the time frame he was looking for.

Gus was starting to question the task he'd set for himself when he noticed an article about a fire in Paris at the Palais Garnier. The specific article he had found was not very informative, but it gave him some information to refine his search. The article mentioned news of a scandal at the Paris Opera House a week prior. Police were still investigating the incident, but there had been a few murders and extensive damage to the facility. Gus was about to inquire about other periodicals from the same time, but was stopped by a soft chime from the nearby clock. He only had a short time before he was to meet with Alan again. So, Gus gathered up all of the papers he had been reading through and rearranged them in their neat and, orderly stack before returning them to the librarian. He thanked him for his assistance and walked briskly to the exit.

Feeling invigorated that he may finally get some answers about something, Gus set out with long strides for the nearby cricket field. After a short walk he approached to find Alan sitting on the ground with his equipment piled up beside him.

"Practice ended a while ago, where have you been?" Alan asked.

"I had a few things to take care of. Besides, I didn't want the team thinking you had a creepy stalker that had some weird obsession with you."

"You're right, much better to keep that to yourself. That way you can sneak up on your rivals."

Gus held out a hand to help his friend up. Alan accepted the gesture and pulled himself off the ground before moving to pick up his gear. They made a brief stop at the nearby market to buy some bread and fruit before walking toward the bridge where Gus had last seen Lucy. The sun was beginning to dip under the trees lining the stream. Gus pointed to a nearby clump of bushes and they sat down near them. At their current location, they would have a decent view of the bridge, while also being partly obscured from anyone who might be standing on or near it. Gus had no real idea what to expect at the moment, so this seemed as good a place to wait as any. Alan took the opportunity to break off some bread and hungrily bit into the large piece in his hand. When Gus turned to look at him, Alan offered the remaining loaf so that Gus could tear a piece off for himself, but he shook his head and turned back to the bridge.

After they had been sitting for about ten minutes, Alan took a break from his meal to ask, "so what are we looking for exactly?"

Gus's brow furrowed as he answered, "I'm not really sure." He grinned ruefully, before adding, "but I'll know when I see it."

Alan snorted before picking up an apple and taking a large bite out of it.

"Have you figured out what you're going to do, or say if we actually see this person?"

"I don't know," Gus replied honestly.

"Maybe you should try writing her a letter first. If she's already run away from you twice she may have the wrong idea about you. You should probably worry more about this girl seeing you as a creepy stalker, and less how a team of jocks might think of you."

"I just want to talk to her. She should be doing so much more than just cleaning some random pub in a country town. Honestly I'm not even sure if she can read. So we're here, to make sure she'll at least hear me out."

Alan shrugged before finishing off the apple in his hand. He tossed the core over his shoulder and laid down with his hands behind his head. It had been a long day and he figured he could get some rest while keeping his friend company. The sky was starting to turn purple as the sun dropped lower beyond the horizon. The sun itself wasn't even visible from where he laid, and stars would soon be scattered in the sky above. He had many doubts about the likelihood of success of their current plan, but he also knew that he could easily rest on the soft grass. If Gus wanted to spend all night waiting for a mysterious girl to magically appear by the water, then Alan figured it was simpler to just let him waste his time.


	5. Chapter 5

**5.**

After having been grounded for several days, Lucy was excited to be returning to town. She bobbed along happily behind the Maestro as he guided her through the labyrinth catacombs beneath the town of Oxford. She'd long ago learned to navigate these passages herself, especially the route they were currently taking, but she enjoyed the Maestro's company and so made no complaint about his insistence on leading her to the exit near her employer's pub.

Their footsteps echoed off the walls as they walked briskly along. The Maestro had a longer stride, so Lucy was almost running in order to keep pace with him. The light of his small lantern flickered and threw scattered shadows all around, but she was well familiar with the cavern and knew they probably both make their way through even without the lantern. The small doubt was for herself, she was certain the Maestro could find his way through these caverns in his sleep.

As they got closer to their destination, the Maestro began to slow down, and without turning he said, "you will go straight to Madame Parker's establishment." It was not a question.

"Yes Maestro," she replied.

"You will not get into trouble or look for distractions along the way."

"No Maestro."

"Good. I have my own business to attend to tonight, so be diligent with your work and stay out of trouble."

"Yes Maestro."

They had reached a stone staircase and she waited at the bottom while he ascended to a door a few feet above. He moved a small hatch to look out of a small peephole into what she knew was the alleyway beyond. After satisfying himself that the area was empty, put out the small lantern and hung it on a nearby hook, before smoothly opening the small door into the darkened alleyway. He waved her out of the passageway and she bounded up the stairs into the evening air. He stepped out behind her and closed the door, which was cleverly camouflaged to look like part of the wall. If she hadn't learned of it from him, she never would have known it was there, let alone how to open it.

The alley was only barely more lit than the passage they had emerged from. The moon was still well below its peak, and the sun had sunk below the horizon. The evening air was a bit cool, but after having been below for so long, it was wonderfully refreshing. She heard a soft throat clearing, and turned slightly. Even in the low light she could see the disapproving look the Maestro was giving her. She returned what she was certain was a perfectly innocent look of confusion, which earned her an exasperated wave of his hand.

Lucy giggled to herself as she hurried out of the alleyway a few blocks from the tavern. It was still early evening, so the streets were busy but not particularly crowded. As promised, she walked straight to the waiting tavern and arrived only a couple of minutes after exiting the tunnel they had taken. She had been cautioned not to use that particular doorway too frequently, because it led to a fairly active part of town. But apparently the Maestro had put a high degree of importance on her making it to work on time and also on making sure she kept to her promise during their walk.

Lucy slid smoothly through the back door and into the kitchen of the tavern. Ms. Parker was stirring something in the large cauldron over a crackling fire. She gave no indication that she had noticed Lucy's entrance, but Lucy was sure she had. Very little ever happened under Agatha Parker's roof that she did not know about. Lucy pulled down an apron from off the wall and quickly laced it on. She then grabbed a small rag from the sink and moved into the main common room.

The room was mostly empty, aside from one of the regulars who sat at a table alone sipping at a mug of beer. He clearly hadn't been there very long, Lucy thought Ms. Parker was probably making his food in the kitchen. She started wiping the top of the table nearest the kitchen. It had been quite a while since lunch, so there was not much mess in evidence, but she set to her work all the same.

At first, there was not much to clean, so Lucy was mostly just keeping herself busy. But slowly, the common room began to fill as more and more people finished their day and wanted to relax and socialize. Lucy settled into a routine of clearing away dishes and cups and wiping away the spills and splatters of the patrons. She hummed to herself as she absorbed the din of the various customer conversations. She was happy to be in the company of other people, but even so, out of habit she kept her head down and did her best to fade into the background as much as possible.

About an hour before closing time, after most of the patrons had left, Lucy was clearing one of the tables while two men were talking softly nearby.

"But this is three in a month. This kind of thing just doesn't happen in a place like Oxford."

"At least he didn't make a big commotion like last week. I don't know if Walter will be able to keep a lid on it like the first one, but hopefully we won't have a panic."

"But why strangling? A gun would definitely be easier, or at least a knife if you didn't want the noise. But then why that craziness last week? Everyone just assumed that Lewis was a suicide, but then Rupert gets strangled and practically blown up. Once word gets out about Jacob, people are going to start connecting the dots."

Lucy paused for a moment while wiping the table. She hadn't given much thought to Lewis Fletchley's passing, even after what happened to Rupert Moran. But someone else had been strangled tonight? If Jacob had been the same as Rupert, then she was sure the investigators were quite vexed. She was pretty certain it hadn't been a normal rope that he had been strangled with, although she'd only had a few minutes before the young man had startled her in the alley. She cautiously peered around the room and was relieved to see that he wasn't sitting there tonight.

"At least we didn't have a bunch of people hovering over the body this time."

"Yeah, good thing you got there first. What were you doing in there anyway?"

"I thought I heard somebody calling out, but there was just Jacob's body there. Must've been my imagination."

"Maybe it was the banshee, ha ha ha."

"You think she got bored wailing out by the river? Ha ha ha."

Lucy scooped up a bowl and utensils before making her way back to the kitchen. She put the dishes by the sink and began scrubbing away the remnants of someone's meal. She frowned as she rubbed the rag across the simple plate. Two other people like the body last week? She was curious about what this one looked like. She had a thought, but would need to get a close look to tell for sure. The Maestro wouldn't like it though. He had expressly forbade her from getting into trouble. Lucy's scrubbing slowed as her mischievous side took over. Technically, he had told her not to get into trouble "along the way". It was semantics and she was sure he'd probably be twice as angry if she got caught this time, but her curiosity was irresistible.

Lucy asked Ms. Parker if she could get some rest early tonight. Agatha gave her a considering look before waving lazily toward the door. The common room was nearly empty, so Lucy knew there wasn't much work left to do anyway, but she still thanked her employer before shuffling out the door.

The streets were mostly empty at this hour, and the moon cast pale illumination over the various buildings of town. Even so, the nighttime shadows were long, and Lucy cautiously crept her way to a nearby building. She was happy that the tavern was not too far from her destination near the outskirts of town. Even walking carefully, she quickly arrived at the village mortuary. As expected at this hour, the building was dark, and she slid her way along the wall to the rear entrance. The door was locked, but it was the first time Lucy had encountered a locked door, nor was it a particularly complex lock. After all, how many people would normally want to break into a mortuary. Using a few items she had borrowed from the kitchen at the tavern, Lucy made short work of the lock and cracked the door. She peered into the dark recess of the building to confirm its vacancy before slipping inside and easing the door shut behind her.

Lucy lit a small lamp near the door and then took a moment to examine the mortuary. The large room was sparsely furnished. There were a few heavy aprons hanging from hooks on the wall and a single large cabinet next to the sink along the back wall. Standing in the middle of the room were three long tables, only one of which was occupied by a body. She cautiously crept forward to take a look at the cadaver.

The body looked like it had just been quickly deposited on the table, which was unsurprising given the late hour of the night. Jacob's clothing was a rumpled mess, but whether that was due to a struggle or having been carried to the mortuary was impossible to determine. Lucy quickly checked his throat. After examining from several angles, she exhaled heavily in consternation. She hadn't had much time to look at Luke Fletchly and it had been dark besides, but the marks on Jacob were consistent with what she knew as the Punjab Lasso. She had never seen one herself, but the journal she'd recently been studying had contained a detailed description of the tool. Like the cylinder in her pocket, it was a deceptively simple design that hid a surprising degree of complexity.

Lucy shivered slightly, wondering if someone had recently snuck into the Maestro's home and taken this information. Maybe that was his business tonight, to find the thief. She suddenly worried about her temperamental instructor encountering a vicious killer in the streets of the small pastoral village. As concern for the Maestro began to well up within her mind, Lucy was startled by someone noisily jostling the door from outside.

Lucy put out the lamp and crouched beside the table an instant before the front door was flung open. A silhouette stood blocking the doorway. Her eyes were trying to adjust to the sudden darkness, but luckily, the person standing nearby also seemed to be unable to see clearly into the dark room. Although it was a fairly large room, it was also mostly empty and she knew it wouldn't take long for the new arrival to locate her if he hadn't already. She slid the metal cylinder out of her pocket and settled it firmly into her hand. With a practiced ease, she looped her finger into the ring dangling at the end of the device. She was pretty certain that setting off the device would bring another rebuke from the Maestro, but getting caught by someone in the town Mortuary would likely bring several worse consequences. So she grit her teeth and braced herself for the coming shock and pulled the pin.

Nothing happened.

Lucy blinked in the darkness. She hadn't had the chance to test her repairs, but she was certain she'd gotten it right. And yet, here she was, crouched in the darkness holding a useless lump of metal like a fool. Her mind was racing now as she tried to think of a way to escape.

The person in the doorway did not seem to be keen to enter into the room that was nearly pitch black, so Lucy began to slide backwards toward the door she had used to enter. After a few seconds, the figure began to take a step into the room and looked to reach to the side. Lucy quickly realized that he intended to again light up the room and knew that she was out of time. The tables were all sturdy and very heavy, so she knew that using them as anything more than cover was a foolish notion. But the lamp she'd put out just a few moments ago was still nearby and pretty small. The Maestro had explicitly told her on numerous occasions to never lose the small metal tube that she uselessly held in her hand, so she slipped it back in her pocket and reached for the lamp as the dark figure at the front of the room similarly reached for a lamp near the open doorway.

Lucy threw her lamp as the man struck a match to illuminate the room. Without pausing for even an instant she then spun on her heel and darted for the back door. There was a muffled curse behind her as the room returned to darkness and the lamp crashed to the floor. The flying object had caused the man to drop the match keeping everything obscured. Lucy fumbled with the door knob as she heard the man suddenly rumbling towards her. She frantically twisted the knob and stumbled into the street behind the building. She quickly recovered her footing and broke into a run down the back alley. Her pursuer emerged not far behind her but she did not break her stride and quickly cut around the nearest corner.

As a child, Lucy had gotten lots of practice at running from bullies through the streets of Oxford, and her time with the Maestro had only expanded her knowledge of various nooks and crannies throughout the town. She wove in and out of various alleyways, ducked under some trees and even leapt over a low wall at one point. When she finally collapsed in the shadow of St. Michael's Church she sat panting loudly. She had not kept tabs on the person who had gone to the mortuary, but she was certain that she must have lost him.

After taking a few minutes to catch her breath, Lucy stood up and tried to make herself less ragged looking before stepping back into the street. She tried to keep herself from looking suspicious as she walked a few blocks to a familiar building. She didn't see anyone in the deserted streets as she walked as calmly as she could and breathed a sigh of relief as she got closer to the wall she had been looking for. Once again, a section of the wall moved and Lucy could see a stairway leading down into the ground.

"You're late."

Despite herself, Lucy winced a little. She had left the tavern early precisely because she had hoped to avoid this, but there was no way to avoid it now.

"Yes Maestro."

He pulled her into the passageway before closing the entrance. But after he was satisfied that they were hidden and no one had seen the passage he remained at the top of the stairs waiting. She knew he wasn't waiting for her to lead him back to their rooms. For the second time in less than an hour Lucy found her mind racing, trying to figure out how to minimize the damage. She knew that lying was out of the question. The Maestro was already suspicious, and if he caught her in a lie… she shuddered at the thought. Finally, after she felt like she'd spent too long under his withiner glare, she sighed and craned her neck to look up at him.

"A little before closing, two men came in and were talking about how another person died tonight. I was curious, so before they went home I tried to find out a little more."

His face shifted in a way that she knew indicated his skepticism and asked, "they didn't wonder why a tavern girl was interested in such things?"

"They didn't tell me anything," she replied glumly. "Mostly I just eavesdropped."

"That's a bad habit of yours. I know it's partly unavoidable due to your hearing, but you really shouldn't practice it, nor put effort into it. I did tell you not to get into trouble."

"They never spoke to me, and as far as I know, they ignored me just as much as most of the bar patrons do. I expect they don't have your keen insight."

The Maestro was a justifiably proud man, so a little flattery often helped. He stared at her for a moment more before descending the stairs and walking back towards their home. She was pretty sure she hadn't fooled him entirely, but apparently he was satisfied with what she had said. She walked carefully behind him as she thought about the events of the last hour and what to do next. It would be difficult to warn him about her findings regarding the Punjab Lasso without implicating herself in her more dangerous investigation. She needed time to think of a delicate way to bring that topic up to him. As they got near to the very familiar hallway she had an inspiration.

"Maestro, tomorrow can you maybe help me with my flash tube? I'm worried if there's some kind of crazy person attacking people in town."

The Maestro slowed his pace and seemed to slump ever so slightly. After a short delay, he replied, "yes. I can certainly imagine enough disasters as it is."

Lucy was confused, but smiled as she walked a step behind. Soon she would know what went wrong in the mortuary, and with any luck, she could also find a chance to happen upon other research topics, like the Punjab Lasso.


	6. Chapter 6

**6.**

Gus stumbled out of his last class, still sleepy from the lack of sleep the previous night. The evening stakeout had been a complete bust, and in retrospect he realized it had been a fool's errand from the beginning. If the legendary Banshee actually arrived with that kind of regularity it wouldn't be laughed at as a fairy tail by most people.

The day hadn't been much better. Gus had thought that Professor Firmin had previously had a completely irrational agitation towards him. He was not happy to have given the man a reasonable justification for further attention by briefly falling asleep in his class. Gus sighed ruefully at the memory of Professor Firmin relishing the opportunity to make an example of the indolent Monsieur de Chagny. He seemed to take personal affront to Gus's fatigue and berated him about it, asking him why he was unable to maintain consciousness.

Not wanting to admit he'd spent the night waiting for a phantom by the river, Gus mumbled an excuse about being unable to sleep. "I was restless for some strange reason and couldn't get to sleep. You know how it is, sometimes these things just happen."

Apparently this was the wrong answer, as Mr. Firmin became livid with rage and informed him matter of factly that he expected his students to pay attention and "these things" should not happen again. Gus spent the final 10 minutes of the lesson alternating between being subject of withering glares and interrogations about his "flights of fancy". Even more than normal, he was quite relieved when class ended and he was able to escape. As usual, his successive classes did not subject him to such tortures, but without the added scrutiny he again found himself subject to feelings of drowsiness.

Gus knew that he really should go to his bed and catch up on rest, or at least get a bite to eat. But he forced himself to walk unsteadily to the library in order to try to resume his investigation into his family's past.

Gus felt a small surge of excitement as he returned to the periodicals section. Once again he requested a small stack of newspapers and took them to a nearby table to continue his search. He was sleepily thumbing through a copy of Le Petit Journal, when he was jolted wide awake by the passage he had just read.

_Palais Garnier is closed indefinitely due investigations of possible arson and the murder of Ubaldo Piangi. Gilles Andre, one of the Opera Populaire managers, has been hospitalized. Prima donna Carlotta Giudicelli alleges that performers were subjected to dangerous working conditions by opera management. Asked for comment, Richard Firmin, Opera Populaire manager, had no comment regarding Giudicelli's allegations as well as the recent string of notorious incidents at the Palais Garnier._

Gus read the passage several times to confirm that he hadn't fallen asleep at the table and dreamt it. He was absolutely dumbfounded. Firmin had been the MANAGER of the Palais Garnier? The irritable man did not seem the type for show business, he didn't seem to like people in the least. And if his lessons were indication, he hadn't a clue about how to engage or entertain people. Gus felt like he hadn't even seen any indication that the man knew how to relate to any people.

After he got over his shock, Gus set himself to his task with renewed vigor and immersed himself in his reading. By piecing together stories from various papers he was able to put together several events from when his instructor and parents were both at the Palais Garnier.

Apparently Monsieur Firmin, together with a man named Gilles Andre had taken over management of the opera house nearly twenty years ago. Shortly thereafter, his mother had made a splash when Madame Carlotta suddenly went ill one evening. From what his parents had told him, that was how they were reunited (they had known each other long before as children). A few weeks later, the main chandelier of the opera house had fallen into the orchestra section, prompting a shutdown.

With help from the patronage of Gus's father, Firmin and Andre were able to restore the main theater and reopen to the public a short time later. They announced the premier of a new opera by some unknown composer, but on opening night Monsieur Piangi was murdered and new damage was inflicted on the Palais Garnier. Around this time, Gus's parents married and decided to leave Paris to come to London. With the loss of their patron, the opera house in disrepair and Monsieur Andre in the hospital, MM. Firmin and Andre were forced to relinquish management of the Palais Garnier. A reward was posted by the Paris authorities for information about the culprit behind the incidents at the opera house, but Gus couldn't find any stories about the reward being claimed.

Years later, the Palais Garnier was again restored, but there was no mention of MM. Firmin or Andre. It had been more than a decade since the opera house had reopened under new management, but Gus saw nothing about any strange occurrences at the Palais Garnier during that time. The last several seasons had been reported to be highly successful and critically acclaimed.

The timing of all the problems made Gus wonder if M. Firmin had been sabotaged by someone with a grudge against him. He could easily understand if someone had taken offense at how the man seemed to lash out at others for no reason whatsoever. It hadn't been his parents, Gus was certain of that. If his father had been trying to ruin the man, why would he have bothered to commit to the restoration of the opera house the first time. And his mother had only just begun to make a name for herself when events had shut the theater down. She even had the lead role in "Don Juan Triumphant", which had had its premier ruined by the murder of M. Piangi. It made perfect sense to Gus that they'd both want a fresh start elsewhere after all of that. It was unfortunate that it had caused M. Firmin some misfortune, but that was hardly their fault.

Gus was beginning to consider that Monsieur Firmin might possibly be deranged, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to find Professor Murphy looking down at him with a slight look of concern on his face.

"Shouldn't you get some sleep lad? It's getting a bit later and I hear you were nodding off in a few classes, including mine." The last bit was added with a good-natured wink.

"Sorry professor. I was up late last night. I wanted to check a few things before dinner and I just lost track of time."

Gus hadn't seen anything relevant to his search in at least half an hour anyway, so he began folding up the papers on the table to return them to the librarian.

"Diligence is certainly a virtue, but make sure you also mind your own well being. As your instructor I probably shouldn't say this, but you shouldn't spend all your time hunched over books. Especially if you're losing sleep over it. There are many things and ways to learn in this world Mr. de Chagny."

"Yes sir." Gus paused before asking, "forgive me for asking Professor Murphy, but would you happen to know anything about Professor Firmin's background?"

"Richard? Why do you ask?"

"I was just looking at some old papers and read that he had been working at the same place as my parents a long time ago. Do you know anything about that? They don't talk much about those days."

"Is that so? No, I'm afraid I don't know anything about that. I know he came here from Paris several years ago, to teach French, but I'm afraid I know nothing of his time before that."

"I understand, thank you anyway professor," Gus said while rising to take the papers back. Gareth Murphy gave him a pat on the shoulder and reminded him once again to get some rest before walking away.

Gus returned the papers he had been borrowing and exited the library into the cool evening air. While he agreed with the advice his instructor had given him, he was also wide awake from the excitement of his discoveries of the last few hours. He wandered aimlessly through the streets of town trying to envision the missing pieces of what happened between the time Mr. Firmin took over at the Palais Garnier and when he arrived at Oxford. He had obviously suffered many financial losses, but why would that prompt him to leave Paris? Did he have a falling out with his former business partner?

"What was his name again? Andre?" Gus whispered distractedly, when suddenly he fell to the ground after being struck from behind. Stunned by the blow, Gus's vision was shaky as he turned his head toward his assailant. The dim lighting coupled with his erratic perception made it difficult to make out details, but his adrenaline helped him focus through the pain to make out a cloaked figure with a small club in one hand and a rope in the other. The cloak did not fully obscure his face, but the mask he was wearing made him totally unidentifiable.

Gus scrambled away unsteadily as he tried to reorient himself. His attacker seemed to take on a sense of greater urgency as he lunged at Gus. Gus kicked out and caught the other man on the shin. The impact threw off his balance and he veered off to the side and barked out a curse as his shoulder hit the wall. A moment later, he dropped the rope and again turned toward Gus wielding on the club. Gus looked around for anything he might use to defend himself but found the area devoid of anything useful. He was still not entirely focused as he pulled himself back to his feet and tried to take a defensive stance.

Gus hadn't really been in many fights before, and he had no real experience handling an attacker with a weapon while he was unarmed. At the moment, the best his addled mind could conceive of was "maintain your distance". Luckily for Gus, the other man seemed slightly more hesitant about how to handle a conscious man from the front, rather than an ambush from behind. Gus tried to remember anything his father or others might have taught him about fighting as his opponent made a tentative swing with his club.

Gus flinched away from the blow and the other man seemed to be emboldened by the response. He moved more aggressively forward when Gus had a flash of insight.

"Help, help," he screamed loudly. "Help, POLICE!"

The attacker's eyes went wide and his head swiveled quickly scanning the streets. Gus cracked a predatory smile as he looked back at the attacker. He had no real reason to fight the man, so why was he trying? Better to cause a commotion and beat him with numbers. The other man realized this as well and turned and ran off into the night. He seemed to be limping slightly, and Gus wanted to give chase, but wasn't sure if he was steady enough to completely walk, let alone run in the dim light of the evening.

There wasn't a large commotion, but his cries had gotten some attention and a few people were approaching with questioning looks on their faces. Gus rubbed at his head as several people walked up asking what all the noise was about. He saw Robert, who he had met on his first night in town, walking up as he explained to the onlookers about the attack he'd been subjected to.

"I don't know how you keep finding trouble in a town like this," Robert said bemusedly, "but maybe you should start going to bed early from now on."

"I was told, just recently, that more rest would be good for my health."

"So, were you able to see his face this time?"

Gus shook his head. "No. He was wearing a mask."

"Well, I'm sure the inspector will want to talk to you anyway. Let's go."

Gus sighed as he rubbed gingerly at the knot on the back of his head. Even without the pain throbbing, he was certain that he would not enjoy the inquisition he expected. But Robert was right, he may as well get it over with now, and besides, at least he wouldn't be attacked at the police station.

For better or worse, the inspector was out when they arrived. Another officer took Gus's statement in his place and told them the police would investigate the matter and let him know if they had any further questions. Gus thanked everyone for their assistance as the weariness he'd forgotten about began to heavily descend upon him. He shakily rose to his feet, prompting Rubert to help him steady his feet.

"Alright lad, let's get you home."

"I'm ok, I can get there on my own."

"I've seen plenty of drunks that have said the same. You're probably right, but just in case you're not, how about a come along and make sure you don't end up face down in a pile of manure in the street."

Gus was sure he could make his way home without difficulty, but the newly provided visual of falling into fresh horse droppings in the street made him more agreeable to assistance. He nodded to Robert and followed the other man out of the police station. With a careful and deliberate pace, the pair made their way back to the building where Gus was staying. Many lights were on, since it wasn't yet terribly late, even though Gus felt like he could sleep for days. He was still tired, but the walk from the police station had helped clear his head. "Thanks again," he said, as Robert turned and walked back to town whistling softly to himself.

Gus walked steadily past the other building occupants to his room where he could finally rest. He kicked off his shoes, but didn't feel up to much more effort than that. No longer concerned about appearances, he stumbled over his bed before succumbing to the weariness that had been assaulting him much more relentlessly than the man he had encountered an hour ago. He dropped onto the bed and unceremoniously passed out.


	7. Chapter 7

**7.**

Gus had barely been asleep for half an hour when a persistent rap at the door made him open his bleary eyes and painfully rise from his bed. He noted that he was still in his clothes, now quite rumpled from the combination of a street fight plus whatever minimal sleep he'd managed to subject them to. Although it had been dark, it wasn't exactly late when he'd returned to his room, but neither had it been particularly early either, prompting him to question who would be bothering him at this hour. After a moment's thought, he groaned inwardly. The inspector had probably returned and hurried over to subject Gus to the questions he hadn't been around to ask a short time ago.

Gus stopped for a moment to try to compose himself and was startled when, without warning, the door swung open. His second surprise came when the person who stepped into the room was not Inspector Poole, but instead his friend Alan. He backpedaled clumsily, so as to not be knocked off his feet by his friend's hurried entrance into the room.

"It's too dark in here," Alan stated perfunctorily.

Gus started to retort that he had been sleeping, but stopped short as Alan hurriedly lit a lamp near the door, before turning back towards his friend.

"So what's this I hear about you being in a row a little bit ago?" Alan demanded.

Gus rubbed at the small knot on the back of his head as he squinted at Alan. "I don't know, some lunatic jumped me from behind. It didn't seem like he was trying to rob me. I'm not sure what he was trying to accomplish, but I guess I managed to convince him it wasn't worth the effort."

"What did he look like?"

"I didn't get a good look at him. He was cloaked and wore a mask. It could have been anyone in that outfit."

"Kidnapping?"

Gus paused for a moment before asking, "why?"

"If he wanted to rob you… or kill you, he'd have had a gun, or at least a knife. It'd be much quicker and easier that way."

"I see. But I meant 'why' would someone be trying to kidnap me?"

Alan shrugged. "Ransom maybe? Your parents are pretty rich aren't they?"

Gus had never really given the matter much thought, but his family was certainly well to do. His family certainly had significant resources, and beyond that, his father's status afforded access to other people of wealth and influence. But this seemed a pretty roundabout way of putting pressure on Gus's family. And furthermore, he hadn't been at Oxford that long. If someone was looking to leverage him against his parents, why now? He never thought he'd been particularly sheltered in London, and with how busy the streets could be it would've likely been much easier to snatch someone up within the constantly moving throng of people. Comparatively speaking, Oxford had enough people to notice illicit activity but with enough space that it was tough to mask yourself in a crowd.

Gus shook his head. A kidnapping in Oxford (at least, of himself) made no sense at all. And besides, the assailant that he'd met in the alley that first night had seemed to view him as more of a nuisance rather than a target. If someone was here to harass him in order to strike at his parents, there was no reason to assault random citizens just to flee when his quarry appeared.

"I don't think he was a kidnapper. Maybe he just thought I was a convenient target? Like Jack the Ripper."

"Didn't he only attack women though?"

"That was only an example. I don't do a lot of research into serial killers."

"I'm just saying, if that kind of psychopath was here in town you'd expect all the ladies to be more frightened. But I haven't seen that at all, not even from your lady friend while some guy was spouting off about you getting attacked in the street," Alan said as he turned to look out the window at the night sky.

"I was wondering how you found out so quickly. But she doesn't seem the type to …" Gus trailed off as his mind processed what the other man had just said. He slowly turned his head to look at the back of his friend who suddenly seemed overly interested in the wispy clouds clawing at the edges of the moon. "Could you please repeat that?"

Alan turned his head slightly. The dim lighting cast odd shadows on his face, where he was trying to maintain an obviously insincere innocent expression, mixed with what he could only assume was supposed to be concern for his friend. "The fellow had clearly been drinking and clearly didn't know you personally, but he was talking about this 'proper gentleman' who caused a commotion for the second time in as many weeks..."

"You know that's not what I was asking about."

"...but anyone who knows you could easily infer who he was talking about."

"Alan."

"He said 'proper gentleman', but I think he was being sarcastic with that remark, can you believe that?" Alan asked, looking directly at Gus with an expression that implied he was absolutely scandalized at the thought.

Gus returned a flat glare at his friend and the two sat staring at one another for a couple of seconds. Finally, Alan either tired of the charade, or else could no longer hold back his mirth and he broke out in a fit of laughter. Gus continued to glare at the other young man, which only made him laugh harder for a short time. But finally, his laughing faded and he sighed before drawing himself up again. "Yeah, the girl that works at the pub? Decent build, scraggly brown hair, keeps her head mostly covered, probably to hide the nasty scars flowing down one side?"

Gus sat on the edge of the bed and started putting on his shoes. "They're not as bad as all that," he muttered. "From what I understand, she had a rough time of it as a child. And a _gentleman_ knows better than to make a lady uncomfortable about things she has no control over." Gus tapped his shoe against the floor to settle his foot into it before lacing it up and repeating the process for the other foot. Alan was leaning nonchalantly by the window frame as he watched Gus lace his shoes with barely concealed mirth.

"Now now sir, she may be an interesting girl, but we both know she's not a _lady._ And someone of your station should be sure to keep that in mind. At least that's what I'd expect our fathers to say," Alan said with a wink.

"Well, my father isn't here. But my mother would tell me to follow my heart." Gus stood and gingerly felt at the back of his head. He probably had a magnificent bruise back there, but thankfully it didn't hurt that much. "From what you say, I guess I should be thankful that your father is not here either."

"You and me both."

Alan put out the lamp as he walked back to the door. He then paused for a moment, that Gus could only assume was to bother him one more time, before twisting the doorknob and leading the way out of Gus's room. Gus followed him into the mostly empty hallway and the two young men walked boldly into the cool evening.

The moonlight was hazy as wispy clouds obscured most of the moon, which was a bit more than half showing tonight. Most of the street lamps were still lit and flickered against the chill night air. As they turned onto the main street through town, Gus nonchalantly said, "so, I thought you didn't frequent that particular pub. What circumstances found you there tonight?"

Alan kept walking forward without missing a beat. "Nothing in particular. When you're thirsty, one place is as good as another, and I heard that pub has a nice ambiance."

"Is that so? I guess I should just be happy your flights of fancy worked in my favor tonight."

Alan stopped in the middle of the cobblestone street and stared at Gus. "I don't know. Maybe fate's been trying to keep you from running into this girl."

Gus turned back to look at his friend and asked, "then why tell me?"

Alan broke into a wide grin as he began walking again. "I don't believe in fate," he said chuckling to himself.

As the pub came into view a short time later, Alan sped up slightly and reached the door a moment before Gus. Hand on the handle, he turned to his friend and ominously said, "it's not too late, you can still turn back right now, lest you be forever branded some kind of low class stalker to the dismay of all the upstanding ladies in town."

"I'd say we're past the point of no return at this point," Gus stated, pushing Alan into the pub.

As before, the room was warm and inviting. About half the wooden tables were occupied with townsfolk mostly drinking their cares away. It was fairly late, about an hour before closing time and well past the time when most would be having their evening meal. Alan and Gus found an empty table and seated themselves. They quickly ordered drinks for themselves and in relatively short order were each nursing a pint of beer.

"Are you sure you should be adding to the strain on yer noggin? If you're not careful tomorrow morning is gonna hurt real bad."

"I thank you for considering my well-being, but I'm sure you've already noticed that this isn't particularly strong," Gus commented while tilting his cup slightly. "I'm sure I'll be fine." Having just woken up a short time ago, and then taking a walk through town to get here, the cool liquid felt good, despite its uninspiring taste. He sipped at the cup as he scanned the room.

Across the room, four men loudly thanked Agatha Parker for the drinks and shuffled their way out of the pub. Gus then noticed Lucy entering from the back to wipe down the recently vacated table. She set the party's cups to one side of the table and began wiping the surface down with a grimy cloth.

Gus raised his hand slightly and called over to the other side of the room, "miss? Miss!" Considering the late hour, the room was not particularly crowded, so he was certain she had heard him, but Lucy ignored him as she continued scrubbing at the table top. "Miss!" he tried again, slightly louder, but again with no effect.

"Bugger!" Alan screamed loudly. Gus spun his attention to see Alan glaring at a puddle of beer next to his spilled cup on the table. "Oi! Girl! Can you come get this mess?"

Staring at Alan, Gus didn't notice the hint of a scowl cross Lucy's face, before she moved away from the table she'd been cleaning to wipe up the spill at his table. She walked over and kept her head down as she began soaking up the spilled beer on the table. Gus gave Alan an exasperated look which he returned with a glare before pointing at Lucy with his eyes.

Gus's eyes widened in surprise. He'd spilled that on purpose! For a moment, he wanted to chastise his friend for adding to the poor girl's workload, but he decided that could wait so he turned to the girl who seemed to be angrily wiping their table.

"Excuse me…" he began.

"Almost done," she muttered.

Gus didn't doubt it. Agatha Parker's pub was certainly cozy, but he was quite certain that even on its best day it would never be described as "spotless". He leaned over and tried again. "No, I would just like a moment of your time to chat."

"Working," she stated perfunctorily as she rose from the mostly dried spot and collected Alan's empty cup. She then turned toward the other table to collect the cups she had set aside earlier.

"How about after work then? We'll be waiting out front." Gus called out slightly louder as she walked away. She answered with a barely audible grunt, which Gus realized could mean anything at all, before disappearing into the back with an armful of cups.

Alan got up and quickly returned with a new cup of beer. "That went well," he said before gulping down half his cup. "Oh, and you owe me for that other one."

Gus stared flabbergasted at his friend as he set his half empty cup on the table. Thinking back on how little he'd drank of the previous cup, Gus realized he'd been planning that scene from the start. Gus slapped his head in embarrassment and groaned inwardly at the performance that he'd unintentionally been a part of.

"I told you before de Chagny, she's not a lady, and you'd best keep that in mind. She may be a nice enough girl, but she's no lady."

Gus understood what Alan was saying, but he was mortified all the same. He drank the rest of his beer quickly and looked at Alan meaningfully encouraging him to do the same. Alan gave a questioning look but obliged his friend, quickly polishing off the rest of his drink. Gus then paid Ms. Parker for their drinks and bustled his friend out of the pub. He had gotten concerned about what foolish notions Alan might come up, especially if he got a few drinks in himself. With that in mind, Gus decided it was better, if less comfortable, to stand and wait in the street.

The pair stood in the street outside the pub, earning the occasional confused stare from people returning to their homes. Gus stamped his feet to distract himself from the cold and inwardly cursed Alan slightly for putting him in this predicament. They watched the last few patrons leave the pub as a light breeze blew down the street. Gus was suddenly struck by a thought. "Wait here," he said before jogging down a side alley.

He emerged behind the pub just in time to see Lucy disappearing down the dark alley behind the pub. "Why do things keep ending up this way?" He asked himself before charging down the dark alleyway.

In front of the pub, Alan stood waiting for his friend. Ten minutes passed and he heard the lock of the front door click before the lights went out in the pub. As the son of a businessman, Alan knew this was possibly just to let people know the establishment was closed, and the workers would probably exit a short time later. He waited another twenty minutes before deciding that no one was coming out the front, and also starting to wonder when Gus was coming back.

He wondered if his friend had run into the girl at the back and successfully engaged her in conversation there. He ambled down the side alley his friend had darted off to and made his way to the back of the pub preparing to needle his friend for leaving him out of the fun. He instead found a quiet, dark alleyway, which was completely empty.

Alan checked the back door and was unsurprised to find it was also locked. There weren't many windows in this back alley, but the few he saw were also dark and indicated everyone had either left or gone to sleep for the night. He looked up at the slow moving clouds and hoped that Gus had gotten lucky and somehow ditched his friend to spend the evening with the girl he'd been talking about for days. If not, then Alan worried that his friend had found himself in trouble for the second time that very night.

Alan shivered slightly as he made his way back to the main street. He wondered absently if maybe now he might start believing in fate, just a little bit.


	8. Chapter 8

**8.**

Lucy had wanted to leave early again. She had no desire to talk to one or two weird men who appeared in the bar. But doing so twice in a week would doubtlessly bother Ms. Parker, and probably prompt more questions from the Maestro than she wanted to answer. So, instead she hurriedly finished her work. She was happy to see that after she had hidden in the kitchen for a long time washing dishes, they had gone outside. So she hadn't spent the end of her shift being stared at.

Lucy told Ms. Parker that the cleaning was done, and after receiving her acknowledgement, darted out the back door into the dark alley behind the pub. She quickly raced off into the night heading for the familiar alleyway that she knew so well. She wove her way across several blocks before cutting sharply into the secluded alley. She found the familiar location and worked the mechanism to open the hidden entrance to the underground passageway. The hidden door slowly opened and once it was wide enough she bolted inside.

After she had gotten a few steps into the passageway Lucy turned around and reached back to close the doorway she had just come through. As she reached for the door, she suddenly jumped back in surprise as a hand appeared in the open doorway. Lucy stepped back in shock as the young man from the pub squeezed through the opening into the hidden passageway.

"Why did you run?" He asked panting breathlessly. "I told you, I just want to talk."

They both turned as a light washed over them. Lucy saw the Maestro appear at the foot of the stairs below holding his small lamp. Both men startled at the sight of the other. The intruder hurriedly pushed Lucy back toward the dark streets of Oxford and made what she assumed were threatening gestures towards the Maestro.

"Back off fiend. You're not ambushing me from behind this time!"

Erik was walking to meet Lucy and bring her back home for the evening. She had figured out the mechanism a long time ago, but he was glad that she left him the responsibility of opening the door. He was surprised to hear a strange voice echo ahead and quickened his pace to see what was going on. As he reached the foot of the steps, the light he was holding lit up Lucy and someone else at the top of the stairs.

Even in the uneven light, Erik could tell that the boy's clothes were finely tailored, despite their currently rumpled state. The boy pushed Lucy back towards the exit as he turned to face Erik at the foot of the stairs. He stared up at the intruder, slightly confused by the accusation hurled down at him. Erik was certain he'd never met the lad before, and yet, something about him seemed familiar even so. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he couldn't stop thinking that he knew the young man somehow.

"Back out Lucy, I won't let him get near you."

Erik bristled. Who did this boy think he was. "Who are you _boy_," Erik sneered, trying to put as much scorn as possible into the word. "You come into my domain and think yourself the master?"

A moment of hesitation crossed the boy's face, before he looked down imperiously and stated, "My name is Gustave de Chagny, now name yourself if you dare."

Erik was startled and his mind went blank. Had he said _de Chagny_? Memories of long ago clicked into place. He remembered another finely dressed young man standing defiantly between him and his student. He remembered facing off in a graveyard, in much the same way as now, with the young man threatening to steal her away and Erik trying desperately to stop him. He shuddered with despair as that moment resurfaced and he suddenly worried that he would again lose his beloved student to an impudent boy who wasn't hideously disfigured.

His agony was made all the worse, because the same family had come to torment him once again. What grudge did the ce Chagny family bear for him, that they were unwilling to allow him the least bit of warmth and happiness. He stared daggers at Gustave, not allowing himself to look at the betrayal from his student.

Anger was starting to well up within Erik, when the young man suddenly leaped down the stairs in an attempt to tackle him. Gustave seemed more surprised than Erik himself by his sudden aggression and Erik nimbly side-stepped the clumsy lunge. Erik prepared to counterattack as the boy tried to recover his balance at the foot of the stairs, as he awkwardly stumbled around on the ground. But before Erik could do more than raise his hand, Lucy cried out from the top of the stairs.

"How DARE you!"

Both men were startled and turned sheepishly to look up the stairway. Lucy was angrily working the mechanism to close the door to the passageway. After a few moments there was a light click, which resounded clearly as both men were standing silently, and the passage was sealed. Both Erik and Gustave remained unmoving as Lucy made her way down the stairs after satisfying herself that the door was closed properly.

Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, Lucy stepped over to stand by Erik and glared at Gustave. "Who are you to try and come between us? Just because I clean up spills for you and your friends doesn't mean you own me."

Despite himself, Erik was surprised to feel some empathy for Gustave de Chagny as he stood with a mixture of hurt and confusion playing across his face. Erik knew all too well how he was feeling in that moment wondering what had just happened, and how things had turned out this way. Long buried memories flashed through his mind, of two men sparring over a girl in a graveyard. He remembered jealously fighting with Raoul de Chagny over Christine Daae, antagonizing the handsome and fashionable young noble, and ultimately falling into despair as they left together.

Erik broke his reverie and observed Lucy shaking almost imperceptibly as she aimed the flash tube that he'd reloaded last night at Gustave. A few feet away, Gustave stood in a defensive posture, still with a look of utter confusion on his face.

So this time, beneath the streets, it was the fashionable young man that thought himself the hero but instead was treated as a marauder. And young Lucy stood heroically, defending someone she cared about. Erik smiled affectionately at his pupil's back.

_Wait. If Gustave is the villain and Lucy was the hero standing against him, doesn't that mean I am the Damsel in Distress being treated almost like a bauble by the duelists._ That wouldn't do at all, Erik decided. He placed a hand on Lucy's shoulder and told her to lower the flash tube. It wouldn't really have hurt the boy anyway, aside from maybe his eyes. Not unless he put his body right on top of it. But he was sure Gustave did not know that, and it was a symbolic gesture anyway.

Ever the obedient student, Lucy lowered her outstretched arm, but continued to stare warily at the young man that had followed her into the passage. For his part, Gustave seemed completely unchanged. Erik thought to himself that from the beginning he'd thought Erik himself was the bigger threat anyway, so having Lucy stop menacing him doubtlessly did little to ease his concerns.

Erik sighed. "Gustave de Chagny? Son of Vicomte de Chagny ... and ... his wife Christine?" He asked, with an obviously questioning tone.

Despite himself, Gustave was clearly curious and cautiously replied, "yes."

"I knew your parents, long ago, before you were born." Both Lucy and Gustave turned to look at him with surprised expressions on their faces. "I have questions for you, and I expect you have some for me. If you come with me, I hope that we can both get some answers."

Gustave looked back skeptically. Erik could tell that he was interested, but was also understandably apprehensive.

"If I leave you here, you might eventually figure out the door, but you'd probably leave it open, and that would be problematic. If I had wanted to kill you, I'd have done so already, or at least attempted such." He added this last bit when he noticed Gustave trying to display his wounded pride. Erik had no doubt he could have overwhelmed the boy. His stance was firm and clearly showed his courage to take whatever Erik threw at him. But Erik himself had learned long ago that it was much better to avoid being struck entirely, rather than proving your toughness. In a similar manner, he felt it was better to let Gustave retain his self image for now.

"The last time, you attacked me from behind and still were unable to beat me. As I said before, I don't think you'd be nearly as successful from the front," Gustave spat.

"Young man, I have no idea what you mean. Prior to tonight I have never seen you before."

"If you're referring to the phantom attacking people in the streets, that is not the Maestro." Two shocked expressions again stared across the passageway, but now they were both directed at Lucy. "A cloaked man that has killed several people in the streets of Oxford at night? I ran into him myself and I assure you it is someone else."

"Several?" Gustave cried aghast.

"Why am I only now hearing of this?" Erik inquired menacingly. Lucy stifled an embarrassed yelp and shrunk in on herself. "We will speak of this later, at length," Erik muttered. Despite the low lighting and the mask he was wearing, Erik did his best to remain expressionless. Lucy was growing into a fine young woman, but was clearly still too impulsive at times. And Gustave had just chased a girl he hardly knew into a dark, narrow passage in the middle of the night. With that in mind, there was no telling what he might do.

Erik sighed inwardly and pulled a small pistol out from beneath his cloak. "We're leaving now. You're coming with us." It was not a question. With his free hand, he pulled out a handkerchief and held it out for Lucy. "Put this over his eyes."

"Why?" Gustave demanded.

"You have already seen more than you should have. This is for your own good. If it puts your mind at ease, she will be directing you."

Erik relaxed slightly as Gustave let himself be blindfolded by Lucy. He had no desire to murder someone in cold blood right in front of Lucy, especially not Christine's son. He had not seen her in many years, but his ardor had not waned and he thought to himself sardonically that she would most certainly not take the death of her son well. Having Lucy handle him kept her occupied while he thought of what to do once they arrived. He was also fairly certain that the boy wouldn't try escaping from her after going to so much trouble to track her down.

The trio walked mostly in silence as they made their way through the winding catacombs under the streets of Oxford. After a while, they arrived at the hallway with the black lacquered door, and Erik opened the familiar door. The trio then walked in before Erik removed Gustave's blindfold and waved him to take a seat. He settled into his own chair and asked Lucy to get herself a stool and make some tea. He waited for Lucy to leave the room before turning back to Gustave.

"How is your mother?"

"How do you know my mother?" Erik stared impassively at Gustave, not responding to the question. He finally answered, "she is well."

"I knew Christine long ago, in Paris. I was once her … teacher."

"Teacher?"

"Your mother is a singular talent. I never saw her like before, nor since. I helped her to cultivate that talent, to be what she was always meant to be."

"Are you teaching Lucy also?"

Erik eyed the boy suspiciously. "Why do you say that?"

"I heard her singing once, by the creek at the edge of town. For some reason it reminded me of my mother."

Erik barked a bitter laugh. "Lucy is a good girl and she puts her effort into trying to sing. But she does not have talent. She has learned enough to not be displeasing, but she cannot make one's soul fly to the heavens like Christine."

Gustave bristled slightly. "I found her singing to be quite impressive. I only heard a small bit, but it is why I'm here right now."

"Christine is your own mother and you would try to compare the two? You're an ignorant child, no doubt as talentless as your father."

"My father is a great man!" Gustave retorted heatedly.

The door opened smoothly as Lucy returned with a stool. "The water is heating and should be ready soon," she said while placing the stool in the room and taking a seat, pretending to be oblivious to the two men staring intensely at one another. After a long awkward silence, Erik thanked Lucy for taking care of the water.

"This young man is the son of my former pupil. He says he heard you singing outside recently."

Lucy blushed deeply and stared at the floor.

"You have a lovely voice. You shouldn't keep it hidden away."

"She still has much to learn," Erik replied. "She is not ready to perform for those people," he said gesturing wildly, before whispering barely audibly, "and they are not ready to hear her."

"Why don't you sing more often?" Gustave inquired.

"The Maestro knows best," Lucy replied. "If he says I am not ready, then I am not ready."

Before Gustave could protest further, a whistle sounded from the hallway.

"The water is ready. I will go finish the tea." Lucy said as she hurried from the room.


	9. Chapter 9

**9.**

Lucy some extra time preparing the tea kettle and setting out cups on the tray. She wasn't hesitant, but as far as she knew it was the first time they had ever had a guest in their home. And furthermore, he had followed her to the entrance. The fact that the Maestro said he knew their family made the whole thing slightly less unnerving, but she still appreciated the chance to compose her thoughts before returning to where the gentlemen were waiting. After deciding that the tea had steeped sufficiently, she removed the leaves from the hot water and set the kettle on the waiting tray. She scooped up the tray and slowly made her way back to the Maestro's room.

Lucy entered to find that the Maestro had removed his cloak and was now wearing the mask that he normally left sitting on the dresser. The only lighting was the same lamp he had carried in from the passageway. Lucy absently thought to herself that the Maestro never seemed uncomfortable in dim lighting, but wondered how their guest felt about it. However, since no one seemed to have added any lighting in her absence, he must be fine. As far as Lucy could tell, if not for the Maestro's change in face covering, she'd have wondered if either man had moved at all. They both still occupied the same chairs she'd left them in, and both continued to not quite stare at each other. Lucy deposited the tea tray onto a nearby table and sat on the stool she'd previously brought joining the awkward silence.

Finally, the Maestro reached for a cup and poured himself some tea before breaking the silence. "So Monsieur de Chagny says that he has now twice been attacked by a masked man in the streets. The second time was tonight a few hours before running into you at work. The first time was about a week ago when said man attacked him with an explosive that he carried in his hands, almost like a stick of dynamite." He gave particular emphasis to the last bit. "You said that you've also noticed some incidents in town, is that right student?"

Lucy sighed inwardly. It was rarely a good sign when the Maestro did not use her name, this was almost certain to be another example. She had regretted blurting out her involvement in or even awareness of the recent string of incidents in town, but what's done was done. She ruefully thought to herself: _in for a penny, in for a pound_.

"About a week ago, I saw someone running out of an alley a few blocks over from the pub as I was walking in to work. When I looked in, I saw what looked like a man face down in the street. I went in to get a closer look and saw that he was dead. There wasn't any blood. I was trying to figure out what had happened when someone, I guess it was your guest…"

"Monsieur de Chagny," the Maestro noted.

"Please, call me Gustave."

"... Monsieur de Chagny, entered the alley." Lucy was looking down as she spoke, so she didn't notice the silent exchange between the two men as she continued. "I was worried that the killer had returned, so as you taught me, I took out the flash tube and set it off. As Monsieur de Chagny stumbled back, I ran out of the other side of the alley and hid for a while. I had shielded my eyes from the flash, like you told me to do, but the sound was really loud and my ears were ringing for a while afterwards."

"Wait, that was YOU?"

Lucy continued as if Gustave de Chagny had not said a word. "The other day, a few men were talking in the pub about several incidents in town. Some of the details reminded me … something I read about. I was wondering if … something of yours might have been stolen, so I went to investigate. While I was looking into that, I was discovered and attacked by someone. I tried to use the flash tube that I'd repaired, but it didn't work. I was able to get away, but there's definitely someone out there doing bad things."

"Wait," Gustave interjected. "If something that people were talking about made you think someone was stolen from this man," he said while gesturing toward the Maestro, "then why did you not suspect him?"

"The Maestro is not a violent man, he is an artist. He would never hurt someone, let alone kill several people."

Gustave eyed the Maestro dubiously. The Maestro cleared his throat and said, "you did an adequate job with the repairs, but you didn't reload it. I keep that information separate, and apparently it is best that I did." He gave Lucy a meaningful glance as he added, "I would know if something was stolen from me, but it definitely sounds like something strange is going on. I would tell you to stay out of it, but apparently that's not possible."

"Maybe you just want her to ignore what you've been doing."

"As I said before, if I wanted you dead, you would be dead."

"Maybe you wanted to kidnap me."

"Then I have succeeded. Where do you think you are right now boy?"

Gustave started as he was reminded of his location and looked around the room warily. Lucy sighed as she filled the last cup of tea and offered it to their visibly flustered guest. After thanking her, he began sipping the tea. After he drained a little more than half the cup, he replied in a slightly petulant tone. "Why is it so dark, do you have something to hide?"

"Not at all," the Maestro responded. "Lucy and I appreciate this level of lighting. It's not as garish as the overly bright lighting you favor, and is more soothing."

Lucy raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. She felt that there were definitely times when the Maestro seemed more inspired at night and so she enjoyed sitting in the room with the lighting low as he produced some of the most incredible music. But other than that, they usually had at least a few lamps providing a warm glow in the room. To say nothing of the skylight that she loved in her own room.

"If more lighting would put your mind at ease, you are welcome to make yourself more comfortable Monsieur." The Maestro said as he waved around the room.

Lucy got up and lit the lamp nearest the door. The shadows retreated and the room took on a warmer glow. Lucy relaxed slightly, as the Maestro seemed more focused on their guest and less interested in finding fault with her at the moment. Since he hadn't seemed ready to punish her about her getting into trouble recently, she decided that now was probably the best time to discuss the incidents without adding to her problems.

"What do you think about the attacks in town Maestro," she asked cautiously.

The Maestro became pensive for a moment before answering. "It is definitely strange, especially out here in Oxford. A single assault would probably just be a dispute between people. But several people being attacked, and one of them not from around here, speaks to a larger problem, or else a very dangerous individual."

Lucy's curiosity was aroused, so she asked, "what do you mean?"

"Several attacks spread over many days says this was not done out of passion, but for a reason. An attack on Monsieur de Chagny says that he hasn't yet achieved his goal, or else that he thinks people are not taking him seriously."

"I'm sure the police are taking him quite seriously. I've spoken to them twice myself and the town Inspector seems very interested in finding the perpetrator." Gustave interjected.

"I wasn't speaking of the police," the Maestro replied. "Sometimes, some people feel that drastic measures are the only way to show your sincerity."

Gustave glared at the Maestro as he said, "you seem to speak from experience."

"I have known such men."

"I don't think there are too many people that know about this." Lucy said. "I only heard about it the one time, and even those men seemed to be saying that it wasn't widely known yet." Lucy took a moment to search her memory before adding, "they said they wanted to avoid a panic in town. So I think it's only a few people that even know this is going on."

"Aside from the incidents our young friend here has brought to people's attention."

Gustave sat silently with a serious look on his face.

"Regardless, it is probably for the best to see if the assault on Monsieur de Chagny was by design, or simply convenient," the Maestro said as he rose from his chair. "Lucy, find him a place to rest and get him settled for the night."

"I would rather return to my own room, sir."

"I must first investigate a few things. If not for your sake, then for your mother's. And I would rather discuss a few more things myself before leaving you to speak of what you've learned tonight. If you're not careful, you may cause a disaster. But it is late, and you should both get some sleep. Or would you rather keep Lucy awake all night after a long day's work?"

Lucy wanted to interject that she didn't feel particularly tired, but decided silence was probably more prudent at that moment. For his part, the young man seemed conflicted as she invited him into the hallway as the Maestro moved to put his cloak back on. Gustave de Chagny rose and followed her into the hallway. She stopped at a closet to retrieve a blanket before leading him to her own room.

As they entered the room, Lucy handed him the blanket she was carrying. She doubted the wealthy young man had ever slept on a floor, so she chuckled inwardly at the situation. She waved at an area of floor near her desk, and tried to sound as magnanimous as possible as she said, "please make yourself comfortable Monsieur de Chagny."

"I told you before, please, call me Gustave." Lucy then sat on her bed and he began to blush, and became visibly flustered before asking, "is this your room?"

Lucy stared back blankly and nodded.

"This is wholly inappropriate, a gentleman should not be staying overnight with a lady."

"You're not going to be staying in the Maestro's room. And nowhere else is really convenient."

Gustave seemed to recover slightly as he asked, "what do you mean _convenient_?"

"The Maestro doesn't want you going anywhere, and this is the only other room that is easily locked. And I don't want to sit in a hallway watching over you all night, so get some sleep."

"Why do you call him that?"

"That is how he introduced himself to me. But it fits. He's brilliant and an amazingly talented man. I am incredibly lucky for his guidance."

"He is vain and selfish, and trying to keep you all to himself."

"You do not know him," Lucy answered angrily. "And you don't know me either." Lucy laid down and stared at the ceiling.

Gustave sighed. "I was rude to you both, please forgive me."

Lucy said nothing.

"_Angel! I hear you! Speak, I listen, stay by my side, guide me! Angel, my soul was weak forgive me, come to me strange, angel_."

This wasn't the Maestro singing. The voice was cruder and more uneven, but the tone was beautiful all the same. A different beauty, more rough and unrefined. Lucy raised her head and looked over to find Gustave de Chagny sitting by her desk and singing softly, almost to himself. He noticed her looking at him and smiled.

"Something I heard from my mother. I guess the two of you have both met the same angel."

She laid her head back down on the bed. "Go to sleep Gustave," she said softly.

"Would you sing something? Maybe something that the angel of music gave to you?"

"I am tired. I had an especially annoying customer today, followed by running from a stranger in the streets and finally an intense discussion with the Maestro. I would like to sleep now."

Tomorrow then?"

"Maybe."


	10. Chapter 10

**10.**

Gus unsuccessfully tried to stifle a yawn. He'd been sitting uncomfortably on the stone floor for several hours. Initially he had been kept awake mainly from the adrenaline rush of the situation, but as that faded a measure of embarrassment at finding himself in Lucy's room had kept him alert. After sitting for hours, even that had faded and now he was mainly kept awake by a mixture of stubbornness and discomfort. If it had only been one or the other he'd most likely have passed out from fatigue, but stubbornness kept him awake and when that failed the pain of sitting on the floor for hours refocused his mind.

As even the aches in his legs started to dull into a mild throb and Gus started to wonder if he should just take a short nap, he heard shuffling outside the door. He leaned toward the door, to try to hear what was happening outside when he was startled by a loud rap on the door.

Lucy pulled herself up in the bed and blinked at Gus before turning to the door. Her hair was even more unruly than it had been in previous meetings and her clothing was rumpled from her time asleep. She was pulling her blanket aside when a second, more insistent knock sounded from the door.

"Coming Maestro," Lucy responded as she sped up her exit from the bed. A few seconds later she had bounded over to the door and unlocked it before turning the knob to welcome him into the room.

The man Lucy called _Maestro_ hurriedly entered the room. His gaze swept over everything, before settling on Lucy who was standing beside the door she had just opened.

"What is HE doing here?" The man asked Lucy while motioning towards Gus.

"You told me to get him settled for the evening…"

"But what is he doing HERE," he interrupted. "In this room," he added when Lucy appeared to be confused by the question.

"Maestro there weren't any options other than this room. You know none of the other rooms are secure aside from yours and I wasn't going to leave him there."

The masked man seemed to consider a response before deciding against it and throwing a quick glare at Gus. For his part, Gus tried to return his best smile. He wasn't sure how well he'd done though. The arrival of the masked man had cleared his head once more, but that allowed him the clarity to realize his legs had fallen asleep and would take some time to support his weight. After the man had steadfastly refused Gus's attempts at etiquette by withholding his name or any useful identifiers, Gus had no desire to provide the man the satisfaction of watching him fall on his face attempting to stand up.

Gus began shifting his feet beneath himself to restart the circulation in his legs when a realization hit him. None of the lamps in the room were lit, and yet the room had been dimly illuminated even before the door had opened. He looked around curiously before staring up to see a small dome that was shining what he would normally think of as an early dawn light into the room. Despite himself, he stared quizzically at the small dome.

The masked man went over to the desk in the room and turned to face the others. Lucy quickly made her way from the door back to her bed and sat on the edge of it. Gus brought his attention back to the other man but remained seated on the floor. They all sat looking at each other for a few moments before the masked man began speaking.

"It appears that things are as you two said. There have been several attacks around town recently. Lucy, you should stay here for now. At least until I can figure out what exactly is going on. It's too dangerous out there right now. Monsieur de Chagny, I will return you to town. You can go back to school, or go to your room, or whatever it is you do, it is not my concern."

Lucy looked like she wanted to object, but remained silent. Gus rose unsteadily to his feet and stared defiantly at the other man.

"Hold on, I still have questions."

And I feel no obligation to answer them. If you want to know about your parents, then ask your parents, rather than some stranger you just met. The assailant was not after you. From what I can tell this started before you arrived. You just have exquisitely bad timing. Like father, like son I suppose. Now let's go."

"Wait, at least tell me who you are. How can I ask my parents about you if I don't even know that?"

The man stopped mid-step and turned his gaze directly onto Gus. Eyes that he hadn't really looked at before, not even when they were alone in the other room, now stared appraisingly at him. The intensity of the man's gaze made Gus uncomfortable, but he summoned up all his determination to not flinch from it. What remained of his hair, was wispy and the skin that wasn't covered by the mask seemed like that of a cadaver. Everything he could see of the man looked to be barely holding on to life, but not his eyes. Those eyes belonged to a vigorous and intense man, a man who was not to be underestimated nor trifled with, a dangerous man.

He smiled a joyless smile, before replying. "Tell them, 'O.G.' sends his regards." He then continued to the door and ordered Gus to follow.

Gus was confused, but also very tired. He had so many questions for both of the residents of this place, but decided it would be futile to ask. This OG clearly had no intention of providing Gus with more information, and he had no doubt that Lucy would follow _The Maestro's_ lead. With a sigh, he walked slowly to the doorway. Before stepping out, he turned back towards the bed.

"I thank you for the pleasure of your company Mademoiselle. Until we meet again."

He then bowed and followed OG into the hallway. He took some small yet childish satisfaction from the discomfort the display seemed to cause the other man.

"Stay here until I return," he said to Lucy before closing the door.

They returned to what Gus had decided was OG's room. The man took a moment to stare at him again, but this time in a more inquisitive manner. He seemed to be struggling internally with some matter, but finally grabbed some cloth from a nearby table and covered Gus's eyes. He had expected this, so he made no move to struggle, or otherwise impede the blindfold. Once the other man was satisfied that it was secure and Gus could not see, he began leading him out.

They walked wordlessly though the catacombs for some time. The only sounds were their breathing and sound of their shoe leather gently slapping the floor beneath them. Finally, they stopped and OG removed the blindfold. They were still in the cavern, but Gus saw the stairs he had descended hours before in the middle of the night. Before he could move toward them, the other man stopped him and finally spoke.

"In consideration of your mother, since I am sure she would not want you killed, I will give you this one warning. When walking at night, keep your hand at the level of your eyes." He then raised his hand beside his face to show him what he meant.

Gus was confused, and asked, "but why?"

"Just heed my advice. It may save your life. And don't return here. Once you leave, I will be blocking this path, so don't bother trying to come back."

He then walked ahead to the steps and made his way to the top. Gus was beginning to wonder if the man was insane and thought he should leave before he lost his wits. OG appeared to be staring out of an opening, and once he'd satisfied himself with what he saw, he operated a mechanism on the wall and the opening to the street appeared. Gus marveled at how a previously solid looking wall now revealed a hidden door, but was swiftly shoved through the opening into the street. He stumbled out and struggled to regain his footing before turning back towards the opening he'd just exited only to see it finish closing.

He returned the few steps he had taken and stared intently at the again solid wall. But try as he might, he couldn't find a single seam or joint or other indication that it was anything other than a solid stone wall to one of the buildings in town. He poked and prodded at various spots, but couldn't find any way to open the door or even prove that a door existed at all.

Regretfully, he sighed and made his way back to the main street from the back alley he'd be left in. As he'd expected, he saw that it was now early morning. The sun had not been up long, so the air was still cool and crisp. His body complained about the lack of sleep and rough treatment it had been subjected to that evening. Gus considered returning to his room, but he was sure that would lead to questions, as well as efforts to push him to class. And after the events of the last 12 hours he decided he wasn't up for that. His stomach suggested that he postpone any of those options for breakfast, so Gus complied and made his way to the local baker.

After visiting the baker, Gus started wandering aimlessly through town while munching on the bread he had just bought. He had no specific destination in mind, and soon found himself on the edge of town. He couldn't think of any reason to go back into town, if anything he absently thought he might be more likely to run into trouble so he continued walking towards the park ahead of him.

As he walked, Gus felt a sense of familiarity with the park he was walking in, and suddenly realized it was where he had seen Lucy singing by the stream. He saw the bridge she'd disappeared under a ways off and before he knew it he had seated himself by the stream around where she had been singing that day. It was hard for Gus to believe that that strange masked man had taught not only Lucy, but also his mother about singing. But it helped explain why he had found her singing oddly familiar that day.

Gus laid down on the slightly damp grass and stared up at the sky. He had already been wearing these clothes for hours most of which was spent sitting on a floor in an underground room, so adding some mud and dew didn't matter much. He closed his eyes and listened to the soothing sounds of the water from the nearby stream running over the rocks and let his mind drift.

Gus wasn't sure how long he'd been wandering the underground maze, but he knew he was totally lost. No matter which way he turned, every path seemed to lead to a dead end. And even when he would turn to make his way back, it seemed that the path itself had changed and he found himself again staring at a solid wall after several turns.

Although he found the confusing labyrinth frustrating, it was merely a hindrance from the real problem. He had been chasing his masked tormentor for a long time, but seemed no nearer than when he'd started. Several times, Gus had turned his back on a dead end only to have the masked man dart out of an opening and attack him from behind with a club. Each time he would then fade away into the darkness and leave Gus swiping at shadows. So Gus ran from his ghoulish tormentor, through an endless maze while enduring endless taunts.

_You're weak. You're the son of a thief. You have no talent. You don't know anything._

Gus kept running, trying to block out the jeers. Why did he hold such contempt for Gus. He had only just met the man. He turned a corner and kept running down the street. The lights were out and no one was around. It was evening so everyone must be in bed. Where was he running to? Where could he go? He searched wildly for where to go when suddenly someone leaped out at him.

"I hate you!"

Gus was on the ground wrestling with Professor Firmin. The old professor was clumsily trying to hit Gus. Again, it was another man he barely knew who had some insane grudge against him. Gus threw him off and started running again. He ran down a school hallway. Eyes and whispers following him through the halls of academia.

"His father was exiled from Paris. Some scandal about marrying a commoner and losing a fortune."

"I heard they killed someone to make his mother a star."

"I don't even know why he's here, he doesn't belong at all."

Gus shut his eyes and kept running, trying to block it all out. None of it was true. Both his parents were beautiful and honorable people. They just wanted a fresh start after the terrible fire he'd read about, nothing more. Just like Gus needed a fresh start now. He looked frantically for an escape. He saw Alan up ahead, walking toward the pub.

"Alan!" Gus yelled, the relief at seeing a friendly face was palpable.

Alan turned back towards Gus's shout. He smiled before yelling loudly, "he's over here! Get him!"

Gus returned a look of pure shock at the betrayal. Alan shrugged, "it's just business. You have nothing to offer and these guys were willing to pay." A large group of men that Alan had called were rushing over, so Gus turned on his heel and was running again. Fleeing for his life from so many people. He tripped over a tree root as he stumbled through the forest running from the angry mob yelling and screaming behind him.

But then, slowly the shouts began to fade behind him and he heard it. It began softly. A low, barely audible melody started to reach out to him. His running slowed and he felt his fears and concerns start to recede. The frantic energy that had propelled him endlessly forward disappeared and Gus stopped and sank to the ground. The music was beautiful and he sat listening as it washed over him. There was no anger or betrayal. There was no dark past or ominous future. There was only the gentle caress of the beautiful music.

Like a man dying of thirst, Gus began to crawl towards the oasis that was the music he heard. He wandered through a misty fog. He couldn't see a foot in front of himself, but the music guided him onward. He followed the clear melody with a certainty that he felt throughout his entire body. His very soul told him that this was one thing he could always believe in, the music.

In the same way as it had begun, the music slowly began to fade away. The song was ending. Gus felt more at peace than he had before, but he didn't want it to end. He reached out, trying vainly to grasp the fleeting notes drifting away on the wind.

Gus suddenly jolted awake from a pain in his stomach. His eyes blinked painfully from the glare of the midday sun. He felt like his mind was still in the fog that clearly was not surrounding his body anymore. He was laying on the grass and the sound of water was clearly audible. He blinked a few more times as his eyes adjusted to the sunlight that was trying to force them closed. He turned to his side and saw Lucy standing over him with her hands on her hips.

"Is this how rich people spend their days? Laying on the ground while the rest of us try to earn a living?"

Gus thought that his side was probably about to have a nice bruise and he was starting to realize it was probably because the young woman standing over him had just kicked him pretty hard. Satisfied that he was now awake, Lucy sat down on the grass a few feet away from him.

"I thought the Maestro ordered you to stay home," Gus said as he winced while raising himself to a seated position.

"He did. But someone needs to take care of this problem. I'm not going to lock myself in a cage forever. If we put a stop to the maniac, then everything will be fine."

"The police are working on it."

Lucy rolled her eyes dismissively. "The police are blind and dumb. If we leave it to them then it's no better than just waiting for the killer to leave on his own."

"So why come to me?"

Lucy paused for a moment, seeming to be unsure of how to respond, before finally speaking. "I just came out for some air and saw a body of a fool by the river and thought I would send him off with the song he'd demanded. But then to my amazement, you're still alive."

Gus chuckled. "So then I guess we'll be working together?"

"Really, I'm only bringing you along to blame when the Maestro finds out. Try not to slow me down or draw too much attention in the meantime."

"Fair enough," Gus said, grinning ruefully as he stood up. OG already seemed to hate him anyway, so running off with his student wasn't going to make things worse. At least this way, the man's ire would make sense.


	11. Chapter 11

**11.**

Alan walked away from the practice field. He was wondering what had happened to his friend last night. He was sure that their classmates were also wondering, since Firmin had been in rare form. Without Gus to harass he had lashed out at everyone else in the class, to the point that everyone had breathed a sigh of relief when he stomped out of the room after subjecting them to a surprise test.

Alan had checked by Gus's room as well as other places he knew that his friend frequented in between classes, but he hadn't seen any indication that he'd returned. When he didn't see him at lunch, Alan hired a messenger to take a note to his father so that he could inform the Viscount about the events surrounding his son. Based on his conversations with Gus, he was sure that Gus would not appreciate that, but he knew that the young man was incredibly naive. Alan would have assumed he had bedded the girl well into the morning if he wasn't so perilously uptight. Which meant that things must have gone badly, and Alan couldn't help but feel at fault for what had happened.

Alan was brooding to himself as he walked toward Ms. Parker's pub for the second time today. He didn't expect to see his friend there this time, but he didn't have any other ideas of where to look and figured he could brood over a pint as well as he did without. Which is why he was quite surprised to turn a corner and suddenly see Gustave de Chagny walking down the street whispering to the barmaid from the previous night.

Alan stood in shock staring at the pair walking down the street and wondered if he had misjudged his friend entirely. He spent a few moments trying to decide if he was angry or impressed with the man he'd spent the last several hours concerned about. Finally he decided he needed answers and before trotted over toward his friend.

Gus was engrossed in his quiet conversation and didn't notice Alan at all until he had clapped the other man on the back hard enough to make him stumble forward. He turned his full attention to Alan and seemed surprised to find his friend looking back at him. He took a few moments to compose himself, and then greeted Alan as if nothing had happened.

"Hi Alan. How was practice?"

"Hello? Where have you been? Most of our French class probably wants your head after the test we got stuck with when you were a no show."

"I was playing hooky. I had a long night," Gus said as he rubbed his eyes.

Alan looked at Lucy and couldn't help letting a grin slip onto his face. Gus seemed to realize what he was thinking and cleared his throat.

"Let me introduce Mademoiselle Lucy. This fellow here is Alan Davies."

Alan gave Lucy a slight nod of the head. She returned a passable if shallow curtsey, before replying, "Milord." Gus looked at her with a puzzled expression.

"Alan is a good fellow, but he's not nobility."

"My mistake, please forgive me sir."

Alan still had no idea what had happened in the last half a day, but two things were clear. Gus had spent some time with Lucy, and there was some tension between them. He decided that the grief he'd been subjected to for the last several hours, including the test he'd probably failed, entitled him to a little amusement.

"No offense taken young lady." Alan leaned forward and waved her over. Lucy approached cautiously and when she was close enough he put a hand by his mouth and whispered, loudly enough so that he was sure Gus could hear, "Master de Chagny is a good fellow, if a bit stuck up. Please don't think ill of him." As Gus stared flatly at him, Alan adopted a frightened look and said, "twas only good things milord, I swear. Please don't have me beaten."

Gus sighed in exasperation as Lucy stifled a laugh.

"I take it you don't mean to leave us alone for a few hours?"

Alan looked scandalized as he said, "oh no milord. What would your father say if he heard that I'd left you alone all night and then left you with some commoners in the streets."

Gus raised an eyebrow at that, and for a moment Alan thought he might've pushed his luck too far. He remembered the message he had sent to Gus's father and how his friend would probably feel about his efforts. But before Gus could dwell on it, Alan straightened up and said, "I do think I'm entitled to an explanation of what's going on though. Especially after helping you stalk this young lady for two straight nights."

Gus blushed for a moment, before stammering, "another pair of eyes can't hurt."

Lucy eyed him suspiciously as Gus ushered the group to a nearby cafe. They quickly seated themselves at a small table, and in relatively short order Gus had made a big production of ordering the cafe's finest tea along with some scones and sandwiches, and a small plate of biscuits. To her credit, Lucy was making an equally fine effort to appear entirely unimpressed with the refreshments spread out before her, even though Alan had no doubt it cost more than she made in a month.

Alan poured himself a cup of the fine black tea and added a bit of milk to it. He saw that Gus was drinking it straight. Lucy was nibbling a sandwich while eyeing the plate of biscuits to her left. He pushed the biscuits toward her, while pretending to otherwise ignore what she was doing as he again asked Gus to explain what he had been doing since they'd parted the night before.

Gus put down his tea and stared into the cup for several seconds. Finally, he looked up at Alan and began to tell him about how he had spent the previous night. He claimed to have met Lucy's music instructor, who was a surprising acquaintance of Gus's parents as well as a genius. Lucy made sure to add this second piece of information between biscuits. They had talked about the incidents, and supposedly this third person had gathered some information before sending Gus on his way. They met up again about an hour ago and claimed to be preparing to look for the mystery man tonight.

The whole thing was rubbish of course. Alan wasn't sure why his friend bothered with such a fanciful tale. The notion that a poor barmaid was taking lessons from a private music instructor was ridiculous. Although it was a nice touch that Lucy affected the wide eyed admiration for such a man. If Alan spent his days wiping tables he'd probably think anyone who could play Vivaldi with the minimum of competence was a genius too. But implying that he was also some sort of detective was clearly excessive.

Although Alan really wanted to tease Gus about his insanely elaborate fiction, he decided instead to play along with his charade. Alan wasn't Gus's father, so it wasn't his responsibility to force him out of such childish antics. He absently wondered if his friend might have some sort of Oedipus complex, crafting such an elaborate persona for a barmaid he took for a tumble. He chuckled to himself as he sipped at his tea.

"What's so funny?" Gus asked.

"Nothing. I'm just glad you two have had an opportunity to get to know each other better."

Alan gave his best innocent smile as Gus eyed him suspiciously. For her part, Lucy seemed to be ignoring them both as she stirred some milk into her tea.

"Well, anyway we're planning to go look for the local killer tonight," Gus said with a sigh. "Whether he's after me or not, clearly things aren't safe."

"Isn't this something better left to the police?"

"Who knows how long this guy has been on the loose. Clearly leaving it to the police is no better than leaving him on his own." Gus replied. Alan thought he heard Lucy snicker, but he might have just imagined it. "Lucy has done a fair bit of investigating the assailant and has a pretty good idea of his methods. He seems to only work at night, and mostly away from other people."

"So, we were planning to split up and spend some time tonight looking in a few of those places." Lucy chimed in.

"That seems dangerous, wouldn't it be safer to stick together?"

"Of course, but then we'll never see him. Kind of ruins the whole idea." Lucy said with a touch of exasperation.

Alan had to admit that she had a point. If the assailant was looking for solitary targets, then a small group of people would obviously be avoided. But he also couldn't help thinking that was probably for the best.

"All the same, shouldn't we just leave this alone for now? You've already been attacked twice now. Probably shouldn't tempt fate a third time, right?"

"It was only the one time," Gus said. "The first time was … my fault. And we've already worked it out. We know what we're expecting so if we see anything we call for help immediately. The police are on alert anyway, and if we listen for each other then we should be able to help out if any one of us runs into the guy."

"But, for your own safety, keep your hand at the level of your eye!" Lucy whispered forcefully.

"Like this?" Alan asked as he sat with his hand by his face. "Whatever for?"

"So he doesn't catch you with the Punjab Lasso."

Alan turned a bewildered expression to Gus. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Look, the important thing is to watch out for anyone suspicious and listen for either of us in case we get into trouble."

"This is completely insane."

The clouds rolled over the moon intermittently making the evening quite dark and ominous. Alan found himself wondering how he had let his friend talk him into wandering the somewhat chilly streets of Oxford for a third time. He was sure there was some strange person causing problems in the dark alleys of town, but he couldn't believe that this was the best way to handle the problem.

It also wasn't helping his studies, which were not the best to begin with, nor his Cricket playing, which he considered a much more pressing issue. Several long nights of wandering the streets had left him somewhat fatigued. Practice that afternoon had been almost as bad as French class. Alan sighed to himself at the comparison he never thought he'd have made before.

He dragged his feet across the cobblestones as he scanned the streets lazily. He had no idea how the other two had selected which areas of town to spend most of their time looking over, but he trudged along near the town mortuary and raised a hand to his mouth to stifle a yawn as he looked at the dark building.

As Alan turned a corner his thoughts wandered to the previous hours they'd spent in the cafe. After he had agreed to go along with their ridiculous plan they'd spend the rest of the time discussing routes and what to do if any of them saw anything. Gus must have skipped lunch because he devoured many of the sandwiches on hand as they had talked about where each of them would go and what to look for. Most of this information was provided by Lucy, who seemed to be really eager to track this person down.

A pale glow fell over the street as the moon broke through the cloud cover momentarily. He peered down another dimly lit alley. Even with the unobscured moonlight, Alan couldn't see more than a few yards into the alley.

_The guy could be in a doorway down there, and I wouldn't even know it._ Alan thought to himself ruefully. He wondered if he was expected to wander stupidly into potentially dangerous places just to play bait to some psychopath.

"But wait, I'll be safe if I keep my hand at the level of my eyes," he said sarcastically to himself as he waved his right hand by his face.

He hoped that Gus had enough wits about him to not wander into dark alleys with his hand by his face. Not only would he look insane, but he wouldn't even be able to see properly. In another hour, he was going to give up on this fool's errand and go drag his friend back so they could both get some sleep. He was fairly certain that Gus would be where they'd planned. If it were anyone else, Alan might have thought this was an elaborate prank. But that's also why, if it had been anyone else he wouldn't be walking stupidly through the dark and lonely side streets of Oxford at night.

Alan had reached the far corner of his lap and turned back toward the middle of town when he heard a distant cry. He couldn't make out the exact words of what was said, but it had sounded like a cry for help. He broke into a run and headed for where the other two were patrolling. The areas each of them were covering were not huge, but there was a lot of space all the same.

As he ran, Alan hoped to hear something again. Not only would it help him find the one who was in distress, but also it would confirm that they were still alive.


	12. Delay Update

I want to apologize to any readers I might have. Life has been crazy lately, and mainly I should be finishing a move very soon. I hope to get the next few chapters up in September. Sorry again for the long delay.


End file.
